David Lewis Paget

Gold Star - 4,540 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

81. Butterflies 1/3/2015
82. By Miners Hands 9/18/2005
83. Byron Bay 10/12/2005
84. Castle Walls 9/18/2005
85. Catherine Gables 9/17/2005
86. Charlie's Room 3/19/2014
87. Chimneys Of Lime 10/4/2005
88. China 10/24/2005
89. China Blue 6/14/2012
90. China Song (Zhong Guo Ge Qu) 12/28/2007
91. Chinese Box 10/25/2008
92. Chinglish Ai 12/6/2006
93. Cliff House 11/18/2008
94. Cliffhanger 9/10/2014
95. Close To The Edge 1/8/2012
96. Cock O' The North 1/25/2016
97. Cockroach Castle 4/3/2014
98. Cold, Cold Heart 6/28/2013
99. Coma! 1/3/2014
100. Courting Disaster 10/26/2012
101. Crab Island Light 6/3/2008
102. Crème De La Crème 12/8/2013
103. Cricket! 12/4/2009
104. Crimson Dawn 12/23/2014
105. Crossed Wires 5/17/2013
106. Crossing The Bridge 11/24/2015
107. Crossword 9/8/2014
108. Crow Fly-Over Night 12/7/2014
109. Crow! 5/18/2014
110. Crystal Clear 6/2/2015
111. Cursed Voyage 1/20/2013
112. Czechmate! 6/22/2009
113. Dance With The Devil 9/27/2014
114. Dark Angels 8/15/2012
115. Dark Forces 9/17/2005
116. Dark Portents 10/14/2014
117. Daughters 3/4/2012
118. Daydreams 9/22/2012
119. Dead Man's Eyes 1/2/2015
120. Death Is Stalking... 5/9/2013
Best Poem of David Lewis Paget

Swan Song

Her hair was as black as a starling's tail,
Her cheeks as pale as a swan,
Her eyes, like two slim moonstones, glowed
And her mouth was the Holy Grail.
She'd played in the dirt of the village street
So long ago, so long...
She'd swum in the pools of the mountain stream,
But now, that girl had gone.

While I still rise with the early bird
To tend to my father's fields,
As the only son of an only son
I watched the woman leave.
She cried sweet tears as she said farewell
And vowed to come back, and soon,
But the village streets of a western ...

Read the full of Swan Song

Sir John De Vere

Sir John de Vere has took a quill
And set himself to sit and write
The sweetest love that is of men
To take unto his heart's delight.

And he has took a damsel fair
That flitteth by, beseemingly,
And with a strand of golden hair
Begun to weave her mystery.

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