Born Feb 20, 1941

Died Sept 12th - 2020 at the South Dakota State Veteran's Home - ashes placed Black Hills National Cemetery

Written by: Nancy Gregory

David, our poet, died surrounded by loving staff at the State Home last Saturday morning. It was a blue sky South Dakota day, and out his window was a flock of wild turkeys. The dear, dear, staff had a small sweet service there for him that I attended. We accompanied his body to the hearse, covered in an American flag.

David loved Hot Springs. He was a founding member of our writers' group; and also a long term member of the board for the Pioneer Museum. He put his heart and soul into that volunteer work. He also helped many writers, including published ones, to fulfill their dreams.

Addicted to Rhyme  by David Purtill

There is nothing like a poem when the words keep time

Dancing off the page on their tiny metric feet

I just can't help it, I'm addicted to rhyme.

Just like a little chorus in a perfect line

Syllables all singing to a steady even beat

There is nothing like a poem when the words keep time.

The rhyming of the words is like the ringing of a chime

And to me it's just like music when the sounds repeat

I just can't help it, I'm addicted to rhyme.

When all the lines scan perfectly it's so sublime

Every single stanza stepping out so crisp and neat

There is nothing like a poem when the words keep time

It makes writing just like dancing when the form is prime.

I'm sorry for the folk who think that poetry's effete.

I just can't help it, I'm addicted to rhyme.

Some would say that free verse is more suited to our time

To my ear rhyme and meter simply sound so sweet

There is nothing like a poem when the words keep time

I just can't help it, I'm addicted to rhyme.