There were weeping willow trees
Out in front of the house
Where I knew happiness did abound.
My mother's uncle Joe lived there.
We'd go there in the summer time
To visit for a day.
The willow trees weeped tears of joy
To keep the front yard cool
And protect us from the summer sun.
We'd have barbecued ribs
and corn still on the cob,
And sit and visit with Uncle Joe.
Now Uncle Joe lived a long life
And had many a tale to tell.
And he told us his stories witha magic
Which kept us in his spell.
He told of ships in World War II.
He told of mines he owned.
He sant to us old songs
And told us funny jokes.
He made us laugh and cry;
He made us never want to leave
Though Sacramento weather
Was always too hot to stand.
He taught us how to make a whistle
Out of a blade of grass.
He showed us the best fun in life
Was simply to make us laugh.
He taught us to enjoy ourselves
In a world of war and hate,
By being cheerful to our family
And true to what we believe.
The willow trees are gone now
And so is Uncle Joe.
And many of the things he said
Are blurred in memory.
But I remember the love
He had for all us kids.
And I remember how we loved him
Amd how much he is missed.