Monday, September 3, 2012
Poem: Whistling Addie
My grand-niece, Addie. Photo taken by her dad.
Whistling Addie, a wonder is she,
She learned how to whistle before she was three,
Added to that, she whistled on key,
She learned Middle C while sipping some tea,
She’s just a small girl; I think you can see,
Who still loves to sit on her momma’s knee,
But when she starts whistling, I think you’d agree,
The notes seem to float like waves o’er the sea,
Or leaves that have lifted off some giant tree,
The town that she lives in has writ a decree
Naming Whistling Addie the sole honoree,
A mighty fine thing for a girl such as she;
Whistling Addie, a wonder is she.