Fireside Musings

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REVIEW:

Reading Tom Wheatley’s poetry makes me

feel as if I stepped right into a Norman

Rockwell painting. His words, in very quick

fashion, take you from a cozy fireside to a

brisk snowy evening; from a cloud-filled

summer day to the crisp crunching of leaves

under your feet; and from the wonder of the

stars to a child’s dream of things to come.

Freddie King -- Director Emeritus International Champion Chorus of the Chesapeake

A Sampler from the Fireside Musings Collection

THE ATTIC

As I rummaged through an attic on an afternoon one day,

I found treasures that so long ago, my folks had stored away.

There were pictures of the family, aunts and uncles, cousins too,

And some keepsakes from my childhood days, which now have long been through.

But there's another treasure trove we carry everywhere.

It's filled with everything we do and all the things we share.

Each of us has memories golden. There are treasures vast to find,

If we take the time to rummage through the attic of our mind.

OLD TOM

Old Tom was slowing down a bit; the years were slipping by.

He feared the boss might fire him from his job.

He used to be the Top Cat in the Mousers' Hall of Fame,

A feline standing miles above the mob.

But now he isn't fast enough to catch the smallest mouse.

His running days have had their date with death.

He now relies on treachery. He'll down a hunk of cheese

And wait beside the hole with baited breath.

MUSICAL FOLKS

Some folks are pianissimo; they're quiet as a mouse,

While others are vivace as they race around the house.

Some are mezzo forte as they bellow all the stronger,

While some folks are fermata. These you hold a little longer.

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