David Lewis Paget

Silver Star - 3,865 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

121. Delayed Judgement 12/10/2012
122. Deny, Deny! 11/11/2014
123. Devil Sunday 1/5/2013
124. Diabolick! 5/30/2010
125. Dinner For Two 7/22/2012
126. Distance Never Lies! 9/28/2014
127. Do What You Will. 9/27/2007
128. Does She Stalk Pathways 9/17/2005
129. Dong Tou Dao 12/28/2007
130. Don'T Come Here Anymore! 12/2/2014
131. Don'T Let Me Die In China, Lord! 5/21/2006
132. Doppelgänger 9/7/2008
133. Dorazamite 2/20/2014
134. Double Jeopardy 1/25/2015
135. Down & Out! 3/18/2013
136. Dr. Horcas Quintessential Gypsy Merry-Go-Round 6/10/2013
137. Dragon Lake 1/15/2012
138. Dragons 12/22/2005
139. Drama Queen 7/23/2014
140. Dreamscape 10/15/2012
141. Dreamwake -new- 2/3/2016
142. Dunkirk 6/14/2008
143. Dutchman's Call 9/2/2008
144. Dyes Cast 9/18/2005
145. Early Morning Call 9/18/2005
146. Earwigs! 11/6/2008
147. Elegy For A Poet 7/23/2008
148. Emily's Twenty-First 7/29/2013
149. Empty Words 3/24/2014
150. End Game 5/6/2013
151. End It! 10/30/2013
152. End Of A Rat 12/16/2012
153. End Of The Dream 1/15/2013
154. Eternal Youth 7/8/2012
155. Evening Light 6/6/2013
156. Fair Exchange 11/15/2012
157. Falconridge 10/24/2013
158. Fallen Angel 5/26/2013
159. Family History 12/25/2008
160. Family Secret 11/9/2014
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

Spirit

‘I died early, ’ said the Spirit,
‘So I didn’t have the chance to learn,
And though I don’t exactly burn
With envy for your thirty years,
It’s such a pity dying young,
The pleasures of a youth, unsung…
For all I left behind of me
Were memories of my mother’s pain
In birth and death,

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