Evening katydids were rasping
Loudly in the velvet dark,
People strolling, gaily chatting,
Drifting to the city park.
There upon the grassy carpet
Folding chairs were set in rows
In the dancing light and shadows
Of maple shade, and streetlamp glow.
On the stand, musicians gathered,
Setting up a merry din.
Placing chairs, with eyes watching
For the baton to begin.
Ah, those stirring Sousa marches,
How we loved the live beat,
Swaying to their martial music,
Keeping rhythm with our feet.
Golden minutes turned to hours,
When a signal from the drum
Told us we would soon be rising
For the final act to come.
Then the sweet “Star-Spangled Banner” Brought a tightness to each throat,
Thinking of the things it stands for
And how gallantly it floats.
When the last note sank to silence
People smiled and clapped their hands…
There’s no doubt we had the finest
Of the Sunday evening bands.
Published Golden Moments Ideals 1968