He was often at the market
Signing books that no-one read,
If they had, and known the target
Then they’d not be lying dead.
For the mystic glyph inscriptions
Pointed men towards their fate,
He would say, ‘You’d better read them
Or perhaps you’ll be too late.’

But he seemed so insignificant
They wouldn’t heed his words,
Threw his books in their collections
So they wouldn’t be disturbed.
For the few who really read them
Dived right in and turned the page,
Suffered instant palpitations that
Expressed themselves in rage.

Though they didn’t realise, he was
A god from outer space,
Who had come down with his minions
To save the human race,
But the human brain had limits that
Could not absorb much more,
Than the irritants that stimulate
And lead them off to war.

It came to pass that leaders heard,
Surrounded him with trucks,
And trying to suppress the word
They seized, and burned his books.
They didn’t want the people having
Knowledge, at the least,
That could interfere with politics
And might burst out in peace.

The dollar ruled that ammunition,
Bombs that could be lobbed,
And hand grenades, and tank displays
They all came down to jobs.
And so they closed the market down
To end the sale of books,
That warned about conscription, and
Aspiring army cooks.

And so the god from outer space
Climbed back in his machine,
He’d tried to help the human race,
The human race was mean.
He took on board his minions
And said, ‘It’s getting late,’
Engaged the afterburners and
Then left us to our fate.

David Lewis Paget

She lived in a strange old gabled house
But she rarely came outside,
I’d glimpse her up on the balcony
But she’d see me, and she’d hide.
She seemed a nervous, tremulous thing
But I thought she looked so sweet,
Her hair in a long blonde ponytail,
And a dimple in either cheek.

She lived alone with her grandmother
Who was old, and sharp of tongue,
A sort of witch with a constant itch
She had scratched since she was young.
She wouldn’t allow young callers, who
Attracted to Abigail,
Would try to court but were overwrought
By her, till their efforts failed.

The two who had breached her sanctuary
Who had forced their way inside,
Had only stayed but a single day
Then emerged, and had later died.
It seemed that a curse lay on that house
There was something in the air,
A sense of sin that had lain within
Caught up in the word, ‘despair’.

The more that I glimpsed of Abigail,
The more that my heart would leap,
I’d stand and stare on the corner there
And I’d sometimes hear her weep.
I’d hear the drone of that dry old crone
As she snapped and snarled at her,
‘A man is a fret that you’ll soon regret,
There’s a thousand more out there.’

I finally braved the woman’s wrath
And beat on their old front door,
I knew she wouldn’t invite me in
But hoped that her mood would thaw.
‘I’m coming to call on Abigail,’
I cried, and I pushed on past,
And racing across the hallway floor
I ran up the stairs, at last.

Abigail stood and smiled at me
With her grandmother aghast,
She took me out to the balcony,
I thought that the dye was cast.
I said that I’d seen her from afar
On the balcony above,
‘I want you to know I’m here to show
That I’ve fallen for you, in love.’

‘And I’ve watched you from above,’ she said,
‘I saw the love in your eyes,
I knew that you would finally come
So it’s not a great surprise.’
At this the crone had mounted the stairs,
I finally saw her smile,
She carried a platter for us to eat,
‘Some sweets, will you stay awhile?’

Abigail tied them up in a cloth
To take when I left that night,
Some cherry whirls, and peppermint twirls
And chunks of Turkish Delight,
She scribbled a note that she placed within
And she’d underlined it twice,
‘Whatever you do, I’m telling you,
Don’t eat the Coconut Ice.’

It seems that the sweets were all home made
In the kitchen under the stair,
‘My grandmother takes great pride in these,
But still, you’d better beware.’
At home I unwrapped them carefully
And I checked the Coconut Ice,
The smell was bitter like almonds so
I took Abigail’s advice.

The chemist confirmed that cyanide
Was part of the recipe,
The police arrested the grandmother
And now Abigail is free.
I wish I could say she stayed with me
But she went with Raymond Bryce,
So there was a lesson learned, you see,
I never touch Coconut Ice.

David Lewis Paget

She used to walk in the woods at night,
She said she needed the air,
But didn’t want me to go with her,
She said that it’s cold out there.
‘Well, cold for me would be cold for you,’
I said, but she didn’t mind,
‘I need to go on my own,’ she said,
Made out she was being kind.

Though what it was I would find, who knew?
It raised suspicions in me,
For what do you meet in a darkened wood
But only the occasional tree?
Perhaps she wasn’t the only one
Who wandered into the sward,
Maybe another lonely one,
But no, she gave me her word.

Not that her word was worth too much
As I’d caught her out before,
Meeting a man delinquently,
But never again, she swore.
I had no reason to doubt her then
She said she would play it square,
‘It’s only an empty wood,’ she said,
‘There’s nothing but trees out there.’

I followed her into the woods one night,
Kept quietly out of sight,
And watched as she entered a clearing,
Deep in the dead of night.
She walked straight up to an old ash tree
And knelt before it, and prayed,
While fronds from the tree encircled her,
Like some strange masquerade.

And then as I watched, a shape appeared
Embedded within the tree,
The form of a man, the god named Pan
As clear as it could be.
Patricia advanced, embraced him now
And the form sprang into life,
Doing the things you wouldn’t do
Except with a much loved wife.

He looked like a goat that stood *****,
His horns swept back from his head,
Balancing on his cloven hoofs
While I hid myself in dread.
He raised a set of pipes to his lips
And played an enchanting tune,
That swept the glade as Patricia played
And cavorted in the gloom.

Then suddenly I was back at home,
Woke up in my easy chair,
I rubbed my eyes to the sound of sighs
And Patricia was standing there.
‘I just had the strangest dream,’ I said,
‘Of you in a woodland glade.’
And she just smiled for a little while
As I sat in my chair, dismayed.

‘I think I know why you wander now,
Though you never will with me,
There’s something about a clearing there
And a most remarkable tree.’
She turned, and pierced me with a look
That said that she didn’t care,
‘It’s true, I have a favourite nook
Where I go… I saw you there!’

David Lewis Paget

We were on a tour of the Breton Caves
That had stalactites galore,
A one-time trip to that limestone drip
Forming stalagmites on the floor.
There were only eight, and the tour was late
Was the last one for the day,
It was getting dark in the tourist park
But the guide still led the way.

And that’s when I first saw Monica
Who hung on her boyfriend’s arm,
There was something about her, even then
Some quiet, ineffable charm.
I tried to speak, to engage her there
But she snubbed each tame advance,
And flashed the ring on her finger that
Proclaimed her one romance.

The party wandered about the caves,
Spread out on the limestone floor,
And even Monica wandered off
For what she was looking for.
So when the ceiling had tumbled in
Creating a great divide,
With she and I all alone in there,
The rest on the other side.

The only light was a single beam
That came through a crack above,
And Monica stood in fear, and screamed,
Called out to her new-found love.
But he was stuck on the other side
Of a thousand tons of stone,
I told her, he couldn’t hear a thing,
She said, ‘Just leave me alone.’

She treated me with a great disdain
As if it had been my fault,
That she’d been caught on the further side
At the drop of the limestone vault.
I said, ‘We’re lucky to be alive,
It’s better than being dead,
Under a thousand tons of rock,
Get that in your pretty head!’

The beam then slowly faded away
And left us sat in the dark,
I heard her sigh, and begin to cry,
Our future was bleak and stark.
I thought that I’d try to comfort her
But she pushed my hand away,
‘Don’t let my fears give you sick ideas,
We’ll be out of here in a day.’

That was a long and lonely night
And the worst, by far, of three,
‘They may come looking for you,’ I said,
‘There’s no-one looking for me.’
‘Haven’t you got a girl at home?’
She ventured, one little spark,
Said in an almost friendly tone
As we lay there in the dark.

We heard the skittering sound of rats
As I said, ‘No, I’m alone.’
And then she suddenly came up close,
‘I’m sorry,’ was in her tone.
We shared a couple of chocolate bars,
I sensed her shivering form,
And threw my coat round her shoulders then
Just trying to keep her warm.

The beam appeared as the sun came up,
She finally met my eyes,
‘I’m sorry if I was off before,
You seem to be kind, and wise.’
‘I simply think that you’re beautiful,’
I said, with a touch of awe,
‘Your guy must think you’re incredible.’
‘I wish…,’ and she softly swore.

The hours dragged by, and a day and night
Seemed more than a week to me,
‘Maybe they think, on the other side
We’re buried, so let us be.’
The pangs of hunger were bad by now
And nothing to slake our thirst,
‘If only I’d known,’ said Monica,
‘I’d never have come, we’re cursed.’

The cold got us on the second night,
She didn’t resist me much,
My coat we draped over both of us,
I felt the warmth of her touch.
Her head was lying across my chest
My arms held her, in bliss,
And that’s when she raised her face to me
And gave me a gentle kiss.

Three days we lay there in misery,
We felt that it was the end,
‘If we’re to die, then I wonder why
I’d not make love with a friend?’
The thought of death fairly takes the breath
There’s things we wouldn’t have done,
But she was as eager as me, you see,
In coming together as one.

They broke on through in the afternoon
Of the third day after the fall,
And there her guy with a glistening eye
As she climbed over the wall.
They took us both to the hospital
And I thought she had gone for good,
A brief respite in a lonely life,
But suddenly, there she stood.

I felt bemused and a mite confused
When I asked her, ‘Where’s your guy?’
She shrugged and said we were almost dead,
While he was as sweet as pie.
‘He didn’t share my imprisonment,
So what did you want to do?
It only took three days in a cave,
I've fallen in love with you.’

David Lewis Paget

We came into this life alone
A long, long time ago,
With each of us to each unknown
It gave us time to grow,
Then season after season passed
Our lives would open yet,
When my eyes lit on you at last
Upon the day we met.

And since that day, just like a dream
We’ve never been apart,
You’re everything that love would seem
To this, my bursting heart.
And so today we tie the knot
That binds us both for life,
When I call you my husband, dear,
And you call me your wife.

David Lewis Paget

She went with a friend for the evening,
But she wouldn’t tell me where to,
Just turned as the two began leaving,
Said, ‘Where I go’s nothing to you.’
She liked to be so independent,
Go off, and leave me on the spot,
Then tried to make me feel repentant
For asking her why, where or what?

I sat up and waited till midnight,
Expecting that she would be home,
She must have known I would be uptight
Not knowing where she’d gone to roam.
I knew that her friend never liked me,
Would glory in turning the *****,
Encourage Darlene to defy me,
She’d tell her, ‘So what can he do?’

She hadn’t returned the next morning,
Nor even when it became noon,
The sun towards eve began falling,
So surely she must return soon.
I passed the time on the computer,
Watched Facebook alive on the screen,
When Darlene popped up using FaceTime
Then suddenly started to scream.

‘You’ll have to come in here and get me,
I seem to be inside my phone,
I tried leaving, it wouldn’t let me,
And Marge went and left me alone.’
The face on the screen began fraying,
And she was hysterical now,
Her face in the picture was greying,
‘I’ll come for you, just tell me how.’

‘Just follow me through all the windows,
The frames are all breeding like spores,
My mind’s in a haze, I’m caught in a maze,
There’s many more windows than doors.’
I looked for her picture in Instagram,
And searched for her trace in What’s App,
Then Googled her name, she ran through a frame,
But all that I caught was her back.

The high tension wires running overhead
Were humming and whining all night,
I lay in my bed, convinced she was dead,
Then heard her voice moaning in fright.
The Darlene I knew never came back home,
She travels by churches and spires,
A crackle in time and a hum in the line
Tells me she is the Wind in the Wires.

David Lewis Paget

The day had been rather stormy when
I walked in the garden gate,
With lighting flashing around me,
It was dark, and getting late.
I tried the key in the old front door
But found that it didn’t fit,
And had to pound on the knocker so
That Kate would answer it.

It took a minute or so before
I heard her steps on the floor,
She probably wondered who it was
Before she opened the door,
She stared at me with the strangest look
On her face that I’d ever seen,
But stood there blocking the door, I said,
‘Aren’t you going to let me in?’

She stood aside in a moment then
And I walked in through the door,
She said, ‘And what’s the occasion then?
You’ve not called here before.’
I thought she must have been joking then
And gave her a sickly smile,
She said, ‘you’d better believe it, you
Have not been here for a while.’

I tried to give her a kiss, but she
Pulled back, and turned away,
‘The time for that was an age ago,
That was another day.’
I asked her what she had meant, for she
Had been my wife for years,
‘Not since you married my sister, and
You turned my world to tears.’

I said that I didn’t follow her,
And must have looked confused,
She said that I’d turned my back on her
And left her feeling used,
‘You broke off from our engagement, when
The date had just been set,
And went and married my sister then,
You’re married to Jeanette.’

I thought I was going crazy, though
Perhaps, I thought, it’s Kate,
Having a mid-life crisis, but she
Looked at me with hate.
She said to go to her sister’s place
Just further down the street,
So thinking that I would humour her
I went, through hail and sleet.

I tried my key in Jeanette’s front door
And that gave me a shock,
The key had fitted it perfectly
As then the door unlocked,
I wandered into the kitchen where
Jeanette was making tea
For a man at the kitchen table,
But I swear the man was me!

David Lewis Paget