The Typewriter Poem by Catherine Habbie

My grandfather once had a typewriter
It was a white paper biter
It chewed it well
And then gave out clear notes like a silver bell

Furious missives & loving letters
They all once passed blithely through it
It had the power to make words better
And when it was read your dull heart just lit

Often, it needed careful oiling
A change of ribbon and a little ink
For when it wore out, his soul did sink
It only perked up when it heard the familiar cling cling

ASDF JKL, ASDF JKL, ASDFG JKL
A hundred hours of practice was nothing short of hell
It was after all a Remington Number 1
And sounded like a clear bell on the run

Now it is packed and gathers dust
I just hope it has no rust
While I bang away on my QWERTY keyboard
I often remember how the old fellow roared