Cow Over the Moon in Love Ron AI
My Pome
Hears a pome I thot I rote.
I'm not a pote of any note.
Jes lik to cee my pomes in prnt.
Where I ken fume an vent.
My desirs, like, came an wint.
Theys always, like hevn sint.
To the gurl of my drems.
My hart busting the sems.
I'll end thes pome for now,
Cuz, I thnk she wus a cow.
Copyright 2026 © Ronald W. Hull
2/19/26
You can read and print this poem at my website here.
Rebecca