[Spelling Progress Bulletin June 1961 pdf p9]
THESE ENGLISH WORDS OF OURS, by Helen Bowyer
TAWL TALES FROM OALD TRENCHES.
But I one-der, my dear Kernal,
That you dont publish the jolonel
That you wrote in the infirnal
Days of World War One,
With shot and shell alighting
On the page that you were rye-ting
And a rat or two abighting
At your pen. You myt make a lot of dough
From yure royalties and sew
Could peh up awl yue oh
Around thease parts
And ewer credit, now at zero
Would zoom from heer to Clear Row
And ewe'd bee again the herough
Of aul hearts.
Soe at it, migh dere Cournel
Get busy on that gernal
That yew roat in the infolonel
Days of Were-ld Wore Won,
With schott and shell a-lye-ting
On the peige that yooh were weighting
And a rat or tew a-buy-ting
At yoor pen.
[Spelling Reform Anthology §17.8 p236]
[Spelling Progress Bulletin June 1963 pdf p19]
Under the SPELL of English, by Arthur Bennett
Would you like to be Carnegie's heir,
With never a worry or ceir?
That most of us would is well understould.
One who would not would surely be reir.
When one makes a hole in eight
It's a very sad story to releight
Bad work with the putter and he will mutter
"I'll correct that at some leighter deight."
Once there was an infantry colonel
Who fought where the blitz was infolonel
Want to know the result? You'd better consult
The obituary writ in the Jolonel.
The groom advanced down the aisle
With a smaisle he thought to begaisle
The crowd into thinking he wasn't shrinking
But was scared to death all the whaisle.
A poem is writ word by word;
May be lofty, or may be absord,
May picture the sea, or a bord wild and frea,
Or tell of hope long deford. If a fellow is a regular guy
He'll aim for marks way up huy
He'll push to the top of the hill, witha will
Never pausing to loiter or suy.
Kayak and Seabiscuit raced
They were urged to move and make haced
But for humans to hurry, speed up or, worry
Would be breaking the rules of good taced,
What causes a horsie to neigh,
And what causes a donkey to breigh?
Is it because of their diet they shatter our quiet
Or for pride in their vocal displeigh?
To fly a plane over the ocean
Is possibly not a bad nocean.
Such a perilous flight will turn out all right
If you are able to keep up the mocean.
Look back at the deeds you have done,
Tale stock of your griefs and your fone.
Can you really feel pride and frankly decide
You approve of the race you have rone?
Sent in by Mrs. Ethel Hook, Palm Springs, Calif.