David Lewis Paget

Gold Star - 5,017 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

81. Bones! 1/16/2009
82. Books & Nooks 4/5/2013
83. Born For Raising Hell! 10/4/2014
84. Buried Alive! 12/29/2009
85. Bush Meeting 2/22/2013
86. Butterflies 1/3/2015
87. By Miners Hands 9/18/2005
88. Byron Bay 10/12/2005
89. Castle Walls 9/18/2005
90. Catherine Gables 9/17/2005
91. Charlie's Room 3/19/2014
92. Chimneys Of Lime 10/4/2005
93. China 10/24/2005
94. China Blue 6/14/2012
95. China Song (Zhong Guo Ge Qu) 12/28/2007
96. Chinese Box 10/25/2008
97. Chinglish Ai 12/6/2006
98. Cliff House 11/18/2008
99. Cliffhanger 9/10/2014
100. Close To The Edge 1/8/2012
101. Cock O' The North 1/25/2016
102. Cockroach Castle 4/3/2014
103. Cold, Cold Heart 6/28/2013
104. Coma! 1/3/2014
105. Courting Disaster 10/26/2012
106. Crab Island Light 6/3/2008
107. Crème De La Crème 12/8/2013
108. Cricket! 12/4/2009
109. Crimson Dawn 12/23/2014
110. Crossed Wires 5/17/2013
111. Crossing The Bridge 11/24/2015
112. Crossword 9/8/2014
113. Crow Fly-Over Night 12/7/2014
114. Crow! 5/18/2014
115. Crystal Clear 6/2/2015
116. Cursed Voyage 1/20/2013
117. Czechmate! 6/22/2009
118. Dance With The Devil 9/27/2014
119. Dark Angels 8/15/2012
120. Dark Forces 9/17/2005
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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