Poetry Monday :: Typos (Thank you, Autocorrect)

If you want to read some better  poetry,  Diane - who has taken over the hosting of  this challenge - and Mimi of Messymimi's Meanderings - who also supplies us with topics - are writing wonderful, funny, thought-provoking, ingenious and honestly well written verse. Go and read.

  Karen of Baking in a Tornado has joined us in this crazy pursuit, and promises us at least a poem a month - may  we hope for more!

  SpikesBestMate often publishes a nice verse in the comments.

  Jenny at Procrastinating Donkey who has been a faithful participant, is slowly returning to blogging after her husband's passing from this world. Let's continue to send warm thoughts, good energy, and lots of prayers her way. And dare we hope that she will join Poetry Monday again.

Today's topic is: Typos (Thank you, Autocorrect), but as I do not own a Smartphone, and thus have no brushes wih autocorrect, and as the funny tyopes, I find here and there are all in Danish - and would be lost in translation - I decided to do something else.

So today I'm mimicking the way of Diane on the Border and give you the tale of old Mike, the smuggler. He lived near the German border just after the end of WWII.
 
That Mike was a nice guy, noone disagreed,  
That Mike was a smuggler, was a fact, yes indeed.
Each day as he crossed the border on bike,  
On his way to work, our kind, dear old Mike,
The officers searched him each day, oh they pried.
Not a thing did they find, how often they tried.
And as he went home he was searched once again.
He bantered and smiled, then walked on in the rain.

For years this went on, then our Mike took a fall
The priest came and did what a priest has to do,
And then to his deathbed we gathered all.
We said our godbyes, shed a tear, maybe two.
Then one of us pulled up his courage to ask:
We know that you smuggled, now tell us, dear Mike
What was it, do tell, ere you lie in your cask.
"You never did guess? Every week a new bike."

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Next Monday: Kites