This year, the town of Southbury celebrates its bicenquasquigenary. In other words, 225 years have passed since our Yankee village was incorporated in 1787, separating itself from neighboring Woodbury. A place where the landscape glistens in slowly passing time, Southbury has always been a beautiful embodiment of the traditional New Engalnd town.

There is something about Southbury and its landmark anniversary that doesn’t quite fit the form of prose. I’m not much of a poet, but for whatever reason, I felt compelled to offer this homage to our town.

Rochambeau and all his troops
Marched through town one day
They stayed the night at Hollow Park
Where all the children play

Times have changed through all these years
French armies are no more
Our town has grown in many ways
Since that founding war

Graying hair and Victor Borge
Settled here in town
The training school leaves heritage
For seniors to hand down

We’ve grown a lot since Rochambeau
The churches, parks, and schools
Now our town is 225
Southbury, you rule!

Well, I tried my best. Hopefully, there are some poets in town to help me out. Add a verse or two in the comments section. You don’t have to be Faulker to be a part of the celebration.