Poezja

Presis:
 
Ah frightens to I nuwe you nore,
Whit Sun nor erth could shore.
My glee did gloat to wiff da snit
dat run to view no moor.
 
Cammire ya wit an’ tell da lore
Let’s teez dat plutos’ shore
‘n view dat lit dat squince me eyes
‘n minds me of erths poor.
 
Quite Jon ‘n Jill ya nasty nits
Lend yar ear ‘n ear dis tail.
Its lore to learn to pin yar wits
‘n sharpen ya ponny dale.
 
Tale:
 
Fangs of Jans-berg stint no more pain den dat of dis jewl.
Lo it comes ner breath o latter noon, preathing creat ‘n wetted lips
Drewlin pangs ‘n pung. What snew! What dung! Crelling lo , …..da
PrangerStint.
Shewww, shusssshh, hush yar yap, ner dart nor yip yer tong. PrangerStint
das ears awl. Spys awl. Snits awl.
 
Sense:
 
Spit and Spin when yar anger steams,
-keep yar pot a boilin.
Though God and Michael defend ya dear,
still nuttin’ will stop yar toilin’.
 
Da Johnny feast ‘n swells his pot
‘n makes his dear the dearer.
Wilest Jimmy spies ‘n wishes hope
‘n prays his joy was nearer.