David Lewis Paget

Gold Star - 5,038 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

1001. Walpurgisnacht 12/30/2012
1002. War Of Words 10/15/2013
1003. Waters Into Wine 9/17/2005
1004. Wattle & Daub 6/3/2009
1005. Waxwork 4/12/2013
1006. Wedlock 3/1/2016
1007. Well We Might 9/18/2005
1008. What Happened To The Day? 10/17/2008
1009. What Happens? 12/26/2014
1010. What's In A Name? 5/7/2008
1011. When Our Days Are Minutes... 9/17/2005
1012. When Peggity Pulled The Cord 5/16/2013
1013. When The Welsh Of Wales Go Home 9/18/2005
1014. Where Are The Birds Of Wenzhou, Bei Bei 11/8/2005
1015. While I Write And Breathe... 3/8/2008
1016. Whispering Walls 3/21/2016
1017. White Horses 9/18/2005
1018. Who Cares? 9/30/2005
1019. Why Does My Faith... 10/23/2007
1020. Widdershins 6/20/2012
1021. Winter Comes... 3/15/2008
1022. Woman 3/30/2008
1023. Woman In Black 11/4/2012
1024. Woman In Child 9/18/2005
1025. Woman Of Stone 3/15/2012
1026. Wood Men 1/25/2013
1027. Words 9/30/2005
1028. Would He Even Know Me Now? 3/4/2008
1029. Wrong Mountain! 12/18/2014
1030. Wry! 11/6/2009
1031. Www. 6/9/2008
1032. Wych Elm 9/18/2005
1033. Yellow Moss 8/15/2016
1034. Yesterdays Lost 2/11/2013
1035. Yggdrasil 10/27/2009
1036. You Can'T Come In! 7/17/2014
1037. You Can'T Go Out Today! 10/4/2013
1038. You Were Only Talking... 2/22/2008
1039. You'Ve Got Magic! 4/30/2009
1040. Zanzibar! 12/14/2014
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

The Water Tower

I sit and stare at this empty page,
The wind howls long at the winter eaves,
The cloud is heavy, and black with rage
As squalls dance in through the myrtle leaves.

While deep inside in the cottage gloom
My love lies weary, cocooned in dreams,
I hear her cry in the darkened room
Call out one name from a nightmare scene.

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