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‘Pouring’ over the latest howler, I thought this might help

Eye halve a spelling chequer

It came with my pea sea

It plainly marques for my revue

Miss steaks eye kin knot sea

Eye strike a quay and type a word

And weight four it two saye

Weather eye am wrung oar wright

It shows me strait a weigh

As soon as a mist ache is maid

It nose bee for too long

And eye can put the error write

Its rare lea ever wrong

Eye have run this poem threw it

I am shore your pleased to no

Its letter perfect awl the weigh

My chequer tolled me sew

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co-author of The End of More, in paperback and kindle on Amazon email

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