DonnaL
04-07-2004, 02:51 AM
The Typesetter's Knight Mayor
I have a spelling chequer,
It came with my pea see,
It plainly marques for my revue
Miss steaks eye cannot sea.
Eye strike a quay and right a word
And weight four it two say
Weather I am wrong or write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid,
It nose bee four too late,
And eye can put the error rite,
It's rarely, rarely grate.
I've run this poem threw it,
I'm shore yore please to no
It's letter perfect in it's weigh,
My chequer tolled me sew.
Some drink from the fountain of knowledge while other's just gargle with it.
I have a spelling chequer,
It came with my pea see,
It plainly marques for my revue
Miss steaks eye cannot sea.
Eye strike a quay and right a word
And weight four it two say
Weather I am wrong or write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid,
It nose bee four too late,
And eye can put the error rite,
It's rarely, rarely grate.
I've run this poem threw it,
I'm shore yore please to no
It's letter perfect in it's weigh,
My chequer tolled me sew.
Some drink from the fountain of knowledge while other's just gargle with it.