When words profound and fluent,
I'm called upon to write,
I always worry that I mite,
not get the spelling rite.
So I keep a spelling checker,
(clever thing) in my PC,
and my computer brings to cite,
miss steaks aye can knot sea.
A chequer is a wondrous thing.
It freeze me lodes of thyme.
It helps me chews the word sigh knead,
and lets me make them rime!
Each frays composed upon my screen,
eye trussed to bee a joule.
The checker ponders every word,
against sum spelling rule.
Be four my checker changed my weighs,
aye had full many a laps.
Long words with lots of fid lee bits,
once gave me hart a tax.
Butt now bee cause my spell Ling,
is chequed with such grate flare,
their are know eras in my pro's.
(Of nun aye am a where!)
To rite suck sinked is quite a feet,
of witch won should be prowed.
Sew wee mussed rite eggs act and neat.
Miss takes are knot aloud.
Now yew can sea why aye S steam
soft wear that does sew pleas,
and why I brake in two averse,
in prays of our pea seas. |