David Lewis Paget

Gold Star - 5,430 Points (22.11.1944 / Nottingham, England/live in Australia)

David Lewis Paget Poems

121. Dance With The Devil 9/27/2014
122. Dark Angels 8/15/2012
123. Dark Forces 9/17/2005
124. Dark Portents 10/14/2014
125. Daughters 3/4/2012
126. Daydreams 9/22/2012
127. Dead Man's Eyes 1/2/2015
128. Deadly 10/19/2016
129. Death Is Stalking... 5/9/2013
130. Death Of An Airman 9/30/2005
131. Death Whispers In My Ear 8/24/2012
132. Death's Call 1/28/2009
133. Delayed Judgement 12/10/2012
134. Deny, Deny! 11/11/2014
135. Devil Sunday 1/5/2013
136. Diabolick! 5/30/2010
137. Dinner For Two 7/22/2012
138. Distance Never Lies! 9/28/2014
139. Do What You Will. 9/27/2007
140. Doctor Bones 2/8/2016
141. Does She Stalk Pathways 9/17/2005
142. Dong Tou Dao 12/28/2007
143. Don'T Come Here Anymore! 12/2/2014
144. Don'T Let Me Die In China, Lord! 5/21/2006
145. Doppelgänger 9/7/2008
146. Dorazamite 2/20/2014
147. Double Jeopardy 1/25/2015
148. Down & Out! 3/18/2013
149. Dr. Horcas Quintessential Gypsy Merry-Go-Round 6/10/2013
150. Dragon Lake 1/15/2012
151. Dragons 12/22/2005
152. Drama Queen 7/23/2014
153. Dreamscape 10/15/2012
154. Dreamwake 2/3/2016
155. Drive By 4/26/2016
156. Dunkirk 6/14/2008
157. Dutchman's Call 9/2/2008
158. Dyes Cast 9/18/2005
159. Early Morning Call 9/18/2005
160. Earwigs! 11/6/2008
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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