David Lewis Paget

Veteran Poet - 1,854 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

121. Double Jeopardy 1/25/2015
122. Down & Out! 3/18/2013
123. Dr. Horcas Quintessential Gypsy Merry-Go-Round 6/10/2013
124. Dragon Lake 1/15/2012
125. Dragons 12/22/2005
126. Drama Queen 7/23/2014
127. Dreamscape 10/15/2012
128. Dunkirk 6/14/2008
129. Dutchman's Call 9/2/2008
130. Dyes Cast 9/18/2005
131. Early Morning Call 9/18/2005
132. Earwigs! 11/6/2008
133. Elegy For A Poet 7/23/2008
134. Emily's Twenty-First 7/29/2013
135. Empty Words 3/24/2014
136. End Game 5/6/2013
137. End It! 10/30/2013
138. End Of A Rat 12/16/2012
139. End Of The Dream 1/15/2013
140. Eternal Youth 7/8/2012
141. Evening Light 6/6/2013
142. Fair Exchange 11/15/2012
143. Falconridge 10/24/2013
144. Fallen Angel 5/26/2013
145. Family History 12/25/2008
146. Family Secret 11/9/2014
147. Family Skeleton 10/16/2013
148. Family Ties 10/9/2013
149. Farewell, Dick! 8/18/2009
150. Fateful Morning! 6/5/2010
151. Father & Son 9/27/2007
152. Final Judgement 1/27/2012
153. Fire Man 7/13/2009
154. First Foot 1/1/2012
155. Five Children I 9/18/2005
156. Five Hundred And One 11/13/2014
157. Flawed Fidelity 8/22/2012
158. Follow Me Now! 8/9/2010
159. Following Jane 10/30/2014
160. Footsteps! 3/4/2014
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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