Poem: Whistling Addie

 

 My grand-niece, Addie.  Photo taken by her dad.

Whistling Addie

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.