Our Favorite Sons Poem by Joseph T. Renaldi

Our favorite sons, we welcome you
Back to your stomping grounds and home,
Back to the scenes of your innocent years
Where you casually wanted to safely roam.

As carefree youngsters you aimlessly hiked
Through the highlands and narrow dale,
Back to the babbling brooks so crystal clear
And the adjacent fields you remembered so well.

You now come home in different ways,
Hundreds and hundreds before Labor Day
To join in the beauty - tone festivities
Of an age old tradition that is destined to stay.

An exuberant crowd lines the roadway,
Turning boisterous as emotions rise high.
Cameras flash in handsome settings
Beneath a deep, purplish evening sky.

Old folks and family, proud and regal
Sitting on chairs with hearty smiles,
Colorful banners adorned each house,
Signifying a homecoming for several miles.

Bands march harmoniously in the streets,
Exhilarating musical sounds heard everywhere,
And the pearl of peace has been added
To each intense Labor Day prayer.

So on this day the boys set aside
Each symbol of distinction and cast
To be just boys with boyish joys
And to happily reminisce the glorious past.