The following poem was written by one of our founding members and inspired by the performances of the PACMB.  Posted here with permission of the author.



Building our group 2 ladies took us in tow
Then paraded with honor in the first row

We were “rag-tag” by our own admission
But were polished by these 2 to perform a mission

18 people with spirit and heart
We practiced hard to do our part

Of balance and depth the woodwinds did bring
Made our small marching band’s music sing
And on marched our stoic few

We would march and play doing our best
But the drum line could never rest

Bass, cymbal and the beat of the snare
Would guide us when the songs weren’t there

Then came the sounds of the trumpets, bones and brass
Letting the crowd know that we soon would pass

And then from the back to please the crowd
It was Sousa’s horn. He would have been proud
And on marched our stoic few

Some may question my count of 18
Since we had a drum major out in front to be seen

He would blow his whistle and we would play
But he was outstanding in another way

His baton spinning high for all to see
And with great skill avoiding contact with a tree

Also out in front displaying our sign
Were an additional 2 also marching all of the time
And on marched our stoic few

We marched with discipline with music clear and loud
I would brag that we did surely please the crowd

And if I am privileged to be at next year’s stage
Then the spirit of “76” will exactly match my age.
–Wavesen Rockbottom