By Rev. Gregory S. Smith

Now sparse and unsettled declaring good news, 

But I still remember packed churches filled pews, 

Their wailing, exalting their praise to the king,

Their echoing voices with joy still they ring;

The Temple, Masonic, converted and moved,

But I still remember the Order in groove 

The men in regalia, excluding their craft 

The ladies beside them , white dresses and sash; 

The Legion dismembered comprised by a thread,

But I still remember no membership end, 

Each bar stool were taken 

The music so loud

The magical the feeling 

With drink, food and sound ;

The barbers no longer, the beauty shop closed,

But I still remember fresh talcum 

And combs

The snap of the apron, the chair lowered down

With a brand new perspective to share with the town;

They built on the blacktop, 

Fair housing they say, 

But I see great athletes, hear music for days

The sweat and the rhythm

The swoosh from the net

They jump like cathedrals,

 the sky they would set;

The koffe kup uniforms are long packed away

But I still remember those evenings of play

The midsummer air, the underhand pitch 

The crack of the bat, home run without glitch; 

Small glimpses of “family” etched sealed in my mind

The town of our safety 

When Princeton was kind 

Though faded rekindled in beauty sublime,

I’ll forever remember that season in time!