David Lewis Paget Poems

When I was a child, in the Forest of Dean
We would play 'hunt deer', like a King or a Queen,
We would hide in the forest 'til the sun went down
Then hurry off in terror from old man Brown.
...

I swore, when my wife took off one night
That I'd never love again,
She'd left a note by the candlelight:
'I've been seeing other men! '
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'America - You've Got Magic! '
Ran the sign on the Glitzy Floor,
For this was the latest Reality Show
To consume consumers with awe;
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I heard my friend died yesterday,
It knocked me off my feet,
I'd passed the time of day with him
Last Wednesday, on the street,
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While sifting through old photographs
Of childhood, black and white,
I came across a scene that stirred
My memory, overnight,
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You can't see the tiny village
In the bush, called Barton Leas
For it's hidden in a hollow,
Down a track and through the trees,
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Gordon O'Gord and Michael De Ville
Lived next door to an old landfill,
Gordon was nine and a half, they say,
And Michael nine on the following day.
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How can you say that I didn't care
When I planted a cornfield awave in your hair,
Gifted your eyes of a deep sea blue
That you might see me, and I might see you!
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You brought your Bibles and printed tracts
To a land that God has no heaven in,
For Tao, Confucious and Buddha, here
Had prior claims to the hearts you'd win.
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The bus stood still in the cul-de-sac,
He knew it had come for him,
For the colours of day were beginning to fade
And the nights had been closing in,
...