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

It was three o’clock in the morning On the final day of spring, I was stuck in a hole in the graveyard Of Saint Matthews, Nethe..

Little Begone was a tiny place Untouched by the fronds of time, The cottages there, since Edward the third Had lain in a valley subli..

I could hear her whispering under the trees Whenever the breeze crept in through the pines, And then when the Moon rose out of the sea ..

It was late in the autumn of 2210 The shuttle had gone off to Mars, The highways of Asia were solidly blocked With a billion Chinese ..

I live in the city of Wanna-Be In the State of Much-Too-Hard, And watch for the all If-Only folk Who stick to their own backy..

The Castle out in the marshes ruled The serfs with an iron rod, The yeomen, hidden in cottages, Were careful where they trod, The ..

In the village Bellastrino On the craggy Tuscan hills, Lies an old abandoned Abbey And the Church of San Michele, Though the vill..

My father died of the cholera In eighteen thirty-two, There wasn’t a place at the cemetery To bury him, that we knew, The s..

When Grandpa suffered a turn, we Called the ambulance, right away, They strapped him onto a gurney So he couldn’t sit up, or sw..

I have always been a trucker I was raised on diesel fumes, And I smoked two packs of Lucky’s From daybreak to afternoons, Wh..