Peter D. Purbrick Poems

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1.
Grandma

Her days of frantic pace are o'er;
Yet still her bones aren't idle even now.
A beauteous face still lingers dark and deep
Behind the wrinkled skin and furrowed brow.
...

2.
The Lovely Month Of May

Have you ever smelled the air
Of a Mayday morn
Enriched by the morning dew?
Seen the crisp white bowers
...

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