David Lewis Paget > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

I sit every day in an office, and play With a ledger that carries my name, And stare from the window, the clouds scudding grey On a s..

The people marched to St. Peter’s Field On a fair and a sunny day, They’d gone to listen to Henry Hunt A radical, in his ..

I took a room in a boarding house In a seedy part of town, I hadn’t worked for a month or so And was feeling rather down, My..

I’d seen Lianne at her cottage door When I’d walked the old bush track, The cottage had been abandoned, but She was gradu..

DLP with Mirage A3-22, 1972.

Richard Bryce was a mystery, He lived on a back street lot, The house was the old half-timbered sort, Paint peeled on the old wainsco..

It had been the worst of years, I seemed To always be in strife, First my business in receivership And then my darling wife, She ..

The house was ready to move right in When Jane and John were wed, A wall in the lounge was a TV screen And another, over their bed, ..

We were off to visit the Carnival, Me, George and Julie Anne, George was our mother’s boyfriend, (Though in fact, he was a man!..

I think it began with the airline strike, No planes, not in, nor out, The pilots didn’t know who to blame, ‘Not us,&rsquo..