Yellowcake

I've seen it in the mirrors that
The fleeting death-wish speeds
From ugly strangers tugging at the lie,
If they're to be dismembered
From the vision, since remembered
Then that vision, surely, touches you and I?

The corridors are endless in
The palaces of power,
And islands are forbidden by the law,
But life shall be extended
At the instant it's defended
Though the traitors pack their dollars at the door.

The mighty mausoleums
In the images of man
Have racked this sorry planet to the core,
And background radiation
Is the hearts-blood of the nation...
Though the heart just isn't beating anymore.

David Lewis Paget

The Fourth Horseman

I pen this creed for those we leave behind
To scrabble in the ashes and the dust,
And trust my words may touch the shriveled mind
To find the small compassion we have lost.
No man may cite disclaimers to his fate
When apathy has ruled in dull contempt,
The protests were too slow, and came too late
Were beaten down, were foiled in the attempt.

Each daughter and each son that we have borne
Of perfect line, of perfect form and limb,
Accepted their prerogatives at birth,
The right to life, the right to everything!
The right to bear fine children of their own
To watch them grow, unblemished, in the sun,
But greed has long the seeds of cripples sown,
And monsters have been born to everyone.

Since ever peasants tired of bitter bread
And stormed the battered fortress of dissent,
The avarice of man has set the tone
Of everything the newfound masters lent;
And we must share our burden of the guilt
And count it to our cost, the grim mistake,
That peasant minds, indebted to the hilt
Were offered bread, but turned to yellowcake.

A people with no moral sense must fall
Who can't control the rage of deadly toys,
And forfeit, for the overpowering pall
Respect and life, and see them both destroyed.
We said - 'It: doesn't matter, give us work,
The world will leave us steadily behind...'
If only all the world had gone ahead,
But finally, the blind advised the blind!

David Lewis Paget

The Fairy Light

A light appeared on the darkest hill,
The girl fell once, and was left behind,
I caught her arm and we crossed the rill:
'I can't go on - I think I'm blind.'
'We've all been blind to the things that count
But there's the light - if you'll follow me
We may be able to sight the truth,
And catch a glimpse of eternity.'

The light had pranced by the farmer's gate,
Followed the stony lane along,
Leapt a thicket of tangled thorns,
Flashed and fluttered, and bounded on.
'It's only a lonely firefly,
A torch, or maybe a will-o-wisp,'
She clutched her leg and she gave a cry,
I left her there in the morning mist.

'I must go on!' I could hear the words
The wind had snatched at my shallow breath,
'To stay is worse than to venture on,
For standing still is a living death.'
I took the hill like a man possessed
And clawed a way through the cloying weed,
Prayed and whispered and fought for breath
To follow the light of my driving need.

The light had stopped at the stony crest
To turn its wavering glow on me,
I caught it fast in my fevered hand
And felt the light spread instantly.
The hill erupted in seas and stars,
The heavens wheeled and whirled above,
I ceased to be; but whispered 'Why?'
A word, in answer, whispered - 'Love!'

But love like this was not content,
Rather a pit of burning pain,
Only a well of innocence
Could blend unhurt in the light's refrain.
Reflecting the inner glow of love
The great creation wheeled in grace
While I stood dark and shadow-formed,
Apart - as one of the human race!

They found me there at the break of day;
The girl had only a line to tell:
'He must have suffered a stroke', she said,
'His face was pale, and then he fell.'
She didn't mention the fairy light
We'd chased forever across the land;
The girl was lucky - I lost my sight,
And walk the world with a withered hand!

David Lewis Paget

Tack & Edge

I stand marooned at life's most distant shore
With all the old eternities behind,
And face the frigid future's cold attack
With all the faded blessings of the blind.
What frown has laced my narrow path across
What distance set apart the me from mine,
What rank disaster stands between
The water and the wine,
Or falls between the dreamer and the dross?

A step may drive me onward to the void,
Or poise me at the brink of certainty,
Where oceans tack and edge this ragged world
To draw me in to some deep verity.
A storm may cast my life and love adrift
To leave this weary sentinel alone,
What acres lie between me and
The rolling of the stone,
Or sound the shallow waters of your shift?

David Lewis Paget

Stars

Soft-scattered at
The dark side of the earth,
Before the dawn -
Horizoned at the beam
of feathered sunlight -
Pricked me at the touch;
The stars fell.

And every star
In falling at my hearth
As day awoke,
(Its slow advancing seam),
The precious, flickered phantoms
Turned to dust,
While snow fell.

The children cried,
Delighted at my dearth,
As morning caught
The star in every dream,
And melted every snowdrop
Into rust,
At eve's knell.

And once the petty
Glow that we disperse
Has flickered at
The act we can't redeem,
May sudden sunlight
Sanctify our trust,
In Noel!

David Lewis Paget

Sea and Shore

Why do you tear at
My towers and my turrets,
My walls and my pillars
My barrs and my beach;
And mutter like musings
Of untoward poets,
And scatter your silences
Out of my reach?'

'Why do you surge and
Assault in your anger
The fortress I built for
My lady asleep,
And slowly dismiss each
Dispute you remember
By wearing each stone
From the base of the Keep?'

'What is the torment that
Claws at the crofters,
The meadows, the rookeries
Close to your door,
And where is the mistress
As sweet and as soft as
The ripples you listlessly
Waste by the shore?'

II

'I'll balk and I'll beat
At your very foundations,
I'll tear down your turrets
And pillars of stone,
The lady that sleeps at
The edge of my oceans
Was mine when your acres
Were torn from my throne.'

'But time has not told
All the tales of my fathoms
And constant I am
To the love that I keep,
Each year I assault and
Encroach your dominions,
Your towers and your turrets,
Your castle and keep.'

III

'Long may you surge and
Assault my defences,
Beat in your anger
At granite and slate,
The lady that sleeps has
No further pretences,
Your labour of love
A millennium late.'

IV

'Now shall I fume at
My lady's defection and
All her deceptions
From headland and Tor,
Love is as false as
Your petty foundations
When love may be left
Beating up on the shore.'

David Lewis Paget

Palaces of Glass

'I don't love you anymore!'
Then she turned to face the door,
As the well-spring of emotion burst at last;
For the truth will not be hidden
From the moment that it's bidden
Though it shatters all the palaces of glass.

All the palaces of glass
That we toil to build, alas,
Shatter surely at the first bleak winter's chill;
Along corridors and towers
By the eaves, and in the bowers
Icy winds and bitter mists will take their fill.

'I have loved you now since when,
And will love, until again
You can find it in your heart to think of me.'
Then I looked, and she was gone
With a winter coming on,
The like of which I thought I'd never see.

Now the night is like a pall
Holding heaven in its thrall,
And the ice has slowed the blood within the vein;
All my palaces are gone
Only memories linger on,
And a love that I could only feel as pain!

David Lewis Paget

One Lonely Night

I thought to write of love;
And did, until the critics tracked me down,
To warn me of the blackout in the town ...
No lights above.

No lights above, no voices raised in praise,
No worth in words, no thought for life or love,
But scarecrows that will turn away the birds
On silent days.

And love then wheeled about,
To threaten of some dull monopoly
To halt my pen and stall my mastery,
And turn me out.

There's little love to write;
Distemper is endemic in the race,
And jaundice is a peril of the eye,
To leave us stare at some receding face ...
One lonely night.

David Lewis Paget