World's drawning.
I'm drawing
The sheeps in the field, pink waters,
The pencil, pen, their ink dauters.
The castles I build weigh quarter.
Your joy and scar like Harry Potter's.

Wer not i were the fir trees shake and wail
    In tracts ov sleep amung sum aking vale,
    Their somber snores, sir, preventing
    The yonder moor's circumventing,
        Then cross i woud,
        And make this good
    Complainant flud relenting.

Thank God we'v gotten rid of "phantasies",
God noes we'r not quite thru with "fotografs".
In lite of "ache", a mustache quaches!
So let's not mache the same mistache,
I'll spell it "ake"; now that is set,
And we ar free from dout and det.
Yet don't forget: be moderat!
(Or not, its ritely up tu yu.)
It needn't be rad or frenetic,
If only a tad mor fonetic.

Take, for sake of example,
How "hemorage" and "flem" are ample
Enuff, then shrug off "cough" and "though",
And "dough" as well can go.
E'en "sleigh" and "neigh" and "weigh"
Have nay a place today.
Why cling to things immutable?
A modern "frute" is sutable!

Do not indite me, dauters and sisters,
For offering change to a cumbersom sistem;
The anser is plain, my frends, not hidden!
Nor do ye shun me, ye tuff men o' wor,
For casseling "castle" and coring the "corps";
Som rules a poet can surely ignor.

Shall we then masque the musque of a maskerade,
Put on by men in mosks at prayerthyme?
Or asque for Coronel's victuals—
Orderves; or, just a bictual—
Let's change our lang a lictual, like Sam's *Rime!