A Poem For Krizon

[Diamond Geezer]

The Spel Chequer


Eye halve a spelling chequer;
It came with my pea sea.
It plainly marks four my revue
Miss steaks eye can knot sea.

Eye strike a key and type a whirred
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong or write.
It shows me strait a weigh.

As soon as a mist ache is maid,
It nose bee fore two long;
An dye can put the era rite.
Its rare lea ever wrong.

Eye have run this poem threw it.
I'm sheer your pleased two no
Its letter perfect awl the weigh;
My chequer tolled me sew.

 

[PDJ]

:lol: :lol:

 

[Muttley]

:lol: :lol: :lol:

 

[Shadow Leader]

Very good, DG!!!

 

[krizon]

That's excel ant, DG! Well dun!

 

[PDJ]

grate.

 

[BrianH]

That swot their four - cheque ewer tiepin

 

[PDJ]

ewes full.

 

[Maurice]

Am piston broke.

 

[krizon]

Owe deer! That's a terry ball shame, missed her More ease...

 

[rorydelargy]

A mantelpiece