David Lewis Paget

Silver Star - 4,260 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

121. Death Whispers In My Ear 8/24/2012
122. Death's Call 1/28/2009
123. Delayed Judgement 12/10/2012
124. Deny, Deny! 11/11/2014
125. Devil Sunday 1/5/2013
126. Diabolick! 5/30/2010
127. Dinner For Two 7/22/2012
128. Distance Never Lies! 9/28/2014
129. Do What You Will. 9/27/2007
130. Doctor Bones 2/8/2016
131. Does She Stalk Pathways 9/17/2005
132. Dong Tou Dao 12/28/2007
133. Don'T Come Here Anymore! 12/2/2014
134. Don'T Let Me Die In China, Lord! 5/21/2006
135. Doppelgänger 9/7/2008
136. Dorazamite 2/20/2014
137. Double Jeopardy 1/25/2015
138. Down & Out! 3/18/2013
139. Dr. Horcas Quintessential Gypsy Merry-Go-Round 6/10/2013
140. Dragon Lake 1/15/2012
141. Dragons 12/22/2005
142. Drama Queen 7/23/2014
143. Dreamscape 10/15/2012
144. Dreamwake 2/3/2016
145. Drive By -new- 4/26/2016
146. Dunkirk 6/14/2008
147. Dutchman's Call 9/2/2008
148. Dyes Cast 9/18/2005
149. Early Morning Call 9/18/2005
150. Earwigs! 11/6/2008
151. Elegy For A Poet 7/23/2008
152. Emily's Twenty-First 7/29/2013
153. Empty Words 3/24/2014
154. End Game 5/6/2013
155. End It! 10/30/2013
156. End Of A Rat 12/16/2012
157. End Of The Dream 1/15/2013
158. Eternal Youth 7/8/2012
159. Evening Light 6/6/2013
160. Fair Exchange 11/15/2012
Best Poem of David Lewis Paget

For A Social Worker

What spark in you
Is this that burns
To comfort one
Whose well is pain,
That turns the nightmare
End of dreams
To thoughts of worth
From where they came?

And what the essence
Of your creed
That parts the cloud
In every stare,
You spend your lightning,
Spill each need
Then dredge and heal
Each long despair.

While at the mortgaged
End of dearth
They steal your essence,
Bleed your will,
To leave you sworn
To tears or mirth
While those who care...
Care for you still.

12 April 1984

Read the full of For A Social Worker

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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