Saturday Afternoon
Webster perches on the table
by my side and waits
ever patient. Spell check is
sometimes negligent. I think he
gets into moods. He takes his own
version, tries to impress.
Tells me I am wrong and he’s
right. He never
admits he’s wrong. Not even
once. How like a man. Spell check’s
a young punk with his…
My poems are on today.
I think you are working on this Poetry Week just as hard as I am! Thank you for the reblogs. I love your poetry, and I am so glad you participated in Poetry Week.
Thanks Karen, it’s a pleasure to promote poetry or writing and when it’s by friends then it’s all the more reason.