David Lewis Paget Poems

I have left my heart
In the high, high sky
That you might still see
When I’m gone, close by;
...

‘I’m only the flotsam, jetsam drift
Cast up on your bars and beaches,
The glittering shift that you can’t resist
When viewed from your northern reaches,
...

There’s a distant drift of tides
That pitch at your troubled stare
And songs of a deep Welsh valley
Howl out from your wild, grey hair;
...

What sort of wild temptress is this
That tears at the memory’s core,
That conjures and courts to dismiss
And knows not what tempting is for?
...

These winter days have been cold and grey,
The sun is hidden above,
Much of my life is spent that way
Since I lost my only love,
...

He sat in his favourite corner,
Each day, just taking his pills,
The old man, Frederick Horner
Counting his cash and paying his bills,
...

He walked on up to the cottage from
The cliff, the long way round,
He didn't want to be seen or heard,
His footsteps made no sound,
...

She lay so pale, under a veil
On the hard mortician's tray,
A tube ran down from her artery
And her blood was seeping away,
...

‘I think I’ve come to the end of things, ’
He said, without a tear,
‘But I don’t mind, for I cannot find
A reason to be here.
...

‘I always wanted to see your face, ’ she said,
She was teasing me,
I’d gone along to our twentieth wake
Since we’d been divorced, and free.
...