Poems / Lyrics

Spelling

I'm puzzled by werds
They surround me in hords

From my kneck to my nee
They exclaim free quaint leigh

I can't phathom the reezon
For spellin this whey

There's a fantom at wurk
In the lexicon's pley

The Wromans were rong
To import all their song

The Vikings (and werse)
Added vurbs with thair vorse

From my hart to my toze
The dire log's froes

I just lye in bead
And scratch my pore hed

*

One day whilst psycheling
The tracks of the cyc
I thaut it all throo
(While I sat on the lough)
feeling frought (that's not nue
I must tell it trew)

*

I can't elp butt wundre
Now I'm Dunne with my rime
Will eye get any Marx out ov nhyne?


Copyright Peter Fairbrother

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