1944

We wait all year, making fists To come to grips with Christmas lists. Here's a thought that's a real corker, Check the gifts in The New Yorker. Vacation lures for exotic places Abound among the pages' spaces. The Equinox Spa would be a palace For Mr. and Mrs. William Wallace. Rancho Caballeras, just for the socker For that old cowpoke, W. Dale Brougher. Off to Sea Pines, hark the thrushes, Just the spot for the Theodore Brushes. In Singapore, you couldn't squelch A golfing round for Bud "Sperk" Welch. Or a golfing package at Hilton Head, Just the tee for Rankin, Fred. Bermuda sands, 'there'd be no frowning Upon the brow of Jay H. Downing. Old Sturbridge Village, a place that puts A warming glow on Seymour Schutz. Galapagos would cast a spell Upon the bindings of West Shell. A weekend at New York's Pierre; Ah, Dick Rondeau, float on air. Sapphire Beach would be just great, St. Thomas for Steve and Joey Tate. Nearer home, don't be sluggage, Send Jack Buck some Hartmann luggage. Or Skyway bags, just the tickee For the man-on-the-go, Robert Rickey. Steuben glassware, blown distinctly For the boat of Donald Hinckley. Gourmet popcorn, just the flair For Hudson, Ohio's, Robert Blair. A hummingbird pin, red and throaty, Love from Jerry to Marlene Brody. All-silk bow ties, never dull, Order a batch for Richard Hull. A Bachrach photo and we'll discern The handsome likeness of Paul Kern. A Mercedes-Benz and then you'll know Your way around with Tom Kuneau. A Peugeot, too, would cast far spells Into the lives of the Frank Martells. A brass door knocker, just the whimsy, Stuff the stocking of Bob Lindsay. A Wakefield ham, sweet and yummy, Add some cloves for Joseph Drummey. A Mont Blanc pen would surely hearten The writing touch of Winslow Martin. Book club subscriptions, one supposes, For the Irl and Alan Roses. Or Doubleday books would be just swell For Michigan's Buz and Mary Snell. Omaha steaks from the motherland, Mail 'em off to Willard Sutherland. Sebago docksides would bring swoons Onto the pinkies of the Jack Corroons. A Shakespeare T-shirt, nothing raucous, For the chest of big Nick Daukas. A Tiffany bauble, just the natch, A gem from Joe'to Margaret Hatch. So there it is, no more guessings, The gifts divined, with love and blessings.

Happy Holidays!

P.O. Box 24, joy Hill, Cornish Flat, NH 03746