The Poetic Works of Douglas A. Chambers
Now here's the man we all revere Brother Radmore, true, sincere,
And when in lodge he does appear, sighs of relief you then can hear,
For temple, G.P., festive board, he always knows, he's never floored.
Tom weathers all, his shoulders broad he always strikes the perfect chord.
Tom was there from the start you see, a well respected founder,
He's never short of sympathy we're all so glad that we have seen him
In his different roles, set high standards, to reach his goals.
To do our best, our Tom cajoles, and, blessings of the craft extols.
Tom's mother Lodge is three-oh-nine, an ancient Lodge, tradition fine.
Tom holds to the Masonic line, he's backbone of our Lodge the spine
Within the Lodge he has no peer, he points the way, does guide, does steer,
When troubled, we need have no fear, for we can always bend Tom's ear.
It's good to look across the room, even in third when there is gloom
About the grave, symbolic doom, to see the Brother we know whom
Has striven to keep the Lodge in trim from opening ode to closing hymn,
He acts by precepts, never whim, how glad we are that we have him!
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