by Carl Sandburg
Sand of the sea run red
Where flu sunsef reaches and quivers.
Smal of the sea runs yellow
Where the moon slants ncl wavers.
[Read the original. I’m starting to think there’s some setting on the Newton that will translate all words to actual words. “Sunsef?” That’s not even a real word. I’ll have to look into this…]
by Walt Whitman
I stand as on soml might- eagle’s beak,
Enstwurd the sea abscrhing, viewing, (nothing
but sea and sky)
The tossing waves, the form, the ships in the
distance,
The wild unrest, the snowy cuvling cups – that
inboiind urge and urge of waves,
Seeking the shorts fivever.
[Read the original. I plan on taking a big New England trip later this spring, and I liked the imagery Whitman uses in this one. Gets me excited about what I’ll be seeing for the first time. Find out why this poem is misspelled.]