David Lewis Paget Poems

He rang it in the marketplace,
He rang it in the street,
Old Silas was the Bellman
In the village of Purfleet,
...

The Castle that stood in the farmer's field
Was a grey and battered shrine,
As kids we'd clamber the battlements
And imagine a former time,
...

Their shadows stir and mutter
But too low for you to hear,
They often lapse in silence, when
A group of you appear,
...

I'd been courting my Fiona
For a year or two, to date,
We'd been through the lovers' gridlock,
Love, indifference, and hate,
...

‘My thoughts are often consumed by death
And the dark side of the Moon, '
I said to Jane as she sensed my pain
On that Sunday afternoon,
...

The train pulled away from the station,
The driver grinned up at the box,
The signalman glowered at the driver's face
As he slotted the lever across,
...

For years, the 'Muse of the Heavenly Gates'
Had stood in the shade of a country lane,
Quietly tending its residents there,
The old, the feeble, the stark insane.
...

I well remember Sir Gordon Fitch
As much for his wealth as his plain language,
A spade was a 'bloody shovel' to him,
In truth, he was an arrogant man.
...

'I won't be back 'til very late, '
The note from her had read,
He poured himself another drink
And headed off to bed,
...

They met at the Station of Henley Scarp
Set deep in the countryside,
He told her he'd meet her in London Town
When the hue and the cry had died,
...