David Lewis Paget

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

David Lewis Paget Poems

161. Fair Exchange 11/15/2012
162. Falconridge 10/24/2013
163. Fallen Angel 5/26/2013
164. Family History 12/25/2008
165. Family Secret 11/9/2014
166. Family Skeleton 10/16/2013
167. Family Ties 10/9/2013
168. Farewell, Dick! 8/18/2009
169. Fateful Morning! 6/5/2010
170. Father & Son 9/27/2007
171. Final Judgement 1/27/2012
172. Fire Man 7/13/2009
173. First Foot 1/1/2012
174. Five Children I 9/18/2005
175. Five Hundred And One 11/13/2014
176. Flawed Fidelity 8/22/2012
177. Follow Me Now! 8/9/2010
178. Following Jane 10/30/2014
179. Footsteps! 3/4/2014
180. For A Social Worker 9/14/2008
181. For George... 5/20/2010
182. For The Children Of Sandy Hook 12/14/2012
183. For The Love Of Mildred Pierce 9/19/2013
184. Found Out 7/24/2013
185. From A Blue Cloud 9/17/2005
186. From God To Man 12/20/2012
187. Frosty Hollow 8/8/2014
188. Ganga Rok 4/25/2013
189. Getting Old 3/4/2008
190. Ghost Train 9/11/2012
191. Girl On A Train 1/19/2015
192. Goblin Castle 11/29/2014
193. Goblin Dell 11/11/2015
194. Goddo & Me... 11/29/2007
195. Going Out... 1/10/2013
196. Gone Fishing 5/26/2015
197. Goodbye! 2/25/2015
198. Grasscutters 3/13/2014
199. Gremlin! 10/11/2008
200. Grim Seasons 9/18/2005
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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