Monday, June 29, 2015

Poem for a child in Nebraska.

If eye whirr hew
Id tip a canoe
End tile or two

Watt sport it wood bee
2 clamor tree
Hew end eye sew free

Weed roundup bend
Width hand in hand
Thin wee comb 2 the end

Her mother responded:
She loved it! She was surprised that words that had been spelled in kindergarten have shape-shifted, but she'll gladly take you up on the offer to climb a tree, she says.

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