My computer and I are good friends,
Together we work every day.
I sit there and type with my hands
And new poems are on the way.
When poems are sad and depressing,
When stories are cheerful and gay,
My fingers type on relentlessly
As I have a lot to say.
Sometimes my computer goes cranky;
It freezes and stops half the way.
But with patience and using my savvy,
Starting to work it then may.
Words that misspelled, it corrects
And sentences that gone awry.
Improvement in style it suggests,
Plus new words for me to try.
Peter Frederick