Ho! Twenty-twelve, here we come!
With horns a-blarin’ and a greeter’s poem.
From out here in our rolling green heaven
We bid adieu to twenty-eleven.
We float this salute o’er sceptr’d hills
And hope you feel a holiday thrill.
Assembled here are faces with names
Some girls and boys of countywide fame.
At first we can, we know, we should orter
Tip hats to postal carriers and their sorters.
Good wishes, all types, this year shall rain
On Hearthstone head, our Mullen, Jane.
Who’s that racing? Do you spy it?
It’s Soapbox winner, Virginia Wyatt.
Fodderstack cup went to Alex Ramey
Cause at the end, in first came he.
Here’s restaurant man, hardly anonymous
Niessen, Jerome, middle name Hieronymous.
We’ll call ahead for a year so fine
For our very own Sharon Pyne.
In linotype days they’d pour plenty hot lead
To spell out the name of dear Chapman, he’s Ted!
Ring Amissville bell, o make it clang
For all of those in the Mayhugh gang.
Best wishes now, a whole full tub
For gals and pals in the Garden Club.
And o’er in Sperryville we loft a carol shout
To rescue squad Harold, last name Beebout.
A cheer for good Steve B, hooray!
He’s tied the knot with lovely Kay.
There’s pizza and pizza, but none so goody
As that you scarf by the river at Rudy’s.
And with it you might just lift a Guinness
To that wonderful gal name of Barb Dennis.
No Buffet, no Gates, those guys we ain’t got
But folks around here, they do give a lot.
Oh Mary Jane, Mary Jane, have you heard?
You got the best, your sturdy Chris Bird.
For New Year’s cheer we’ll scale the heights
To send a warm greeting to happy Chuck Weitz.
To hoist a big holly, we’ll go get a derrick
Salute the artist, Kvarnes named Eric.
Oh! There’s Julie Emery, and her man Mike.
Amissville duo, what’s not to like?
Reader please, let’s hear no grumble
If rhymes you see occasionally stumble.
The poet is, when it comes to meter,
Clearly a serial, grammatical cheater.
Our New Year’s hat we gladly toff
To the new DA, he’s Art L. Goff.
Adding good wishes we do now hasten,
To banker Brady, who’s often called Jason.
We crowned a carny queen named King, if you will.
She’s Courtney, winner this year in Amissville.
At library checkout, be at your ease;
Whisper Kruczynski, first name Denise.
(A bit of assistance, a note from the bard:
sound out “cruise-in-ski” and the name’s not too hard.)
Ho! Here’s a rhyme and I’m no kidder,
For Beardsley John and Stephanie Ridder.
Oh, let’s not leave out that Sperryville hunk
Good citizen man name of Tom Junk.
Then here comes Santa, we say “Oh”
for that good gal Barbara Matteo.
Let’s all dress up in season finery,
To go sip nectar at Gadino winery.
An appropriate wish at this Yuletide,
For Roger Welch, the Lions’ pride.
Then shout from the roof a big howdy-doody
To a man we know as Aylor, Moody.
Here comes a parade, a festive rally
For Cunningham gal, first name Sally.
Best of all rhymes for the county art scene
Could only be Drevas, we know her as Jeanne.
In B & B world, ’mongst misters and madams
We’ve got Jay Brown and partner K. Adams.
When looking around for the right stocking filler
Find something for Blue Rock’s Mati Miller.
To Woodville and Bob Darby for a New Year’s sip
To celebrate the man and his scholarship.
And make darn sure the Yule log burns
for Starfish star, Markeith Kerns.
Now make a big shout, a New Year’s harangue,
And dedicate it to our Noel Laing.
Add here a salute, smile and a song then
To merchant prince name of Thompson, Ken.
Salutations have just now riz,
For Amissville Latham, nickname Liz.
At Visitor Center, what do you ask us?
None better to ask than our Sandra Maskas.
Here’s to a couple, fine people they are
Rita and Emery, by the name of Lazar.
We ink-stained wretches have been blessed
with editors cut above the rest.
Oh, Mary Ann, how ya doin?
These days, of course, innkeeper Kuhn;
Then in the chair was Sherman, Anita
Never was a nicer creature.
By turns then came wearing the editor hat
A man we all do greet with “Roger That!”
Let’s draw now a curtain on these plain old rhymes
Seasonal doggerel in mountainous climes.
Four years, a fair term
For scratching on page.
I do say farewell and bow off the stage.
It’s bad enough that former CBS News journalist and longtime Rappahannock writer Jed Duvall has moved out the area, but now he says this is his final annual celebration of nomenclature-driven verse. So the news goes from bad to . . . worse.