Locating Uncle Joe.

Locating Uncle Joe.
505.1

Our Uncle Joe a rover was; he loved to sail the sea.
The far-off corners of the globe he sought with fervid glee.
And so, to keep our minds at rest and calm our anxious fears,
He sent us postal cards -the kind they use for souvenirs.

He sent us cards from Yellowstone, from Egypt and Japan;
From Mozambique, from Martinique, from Fez and Yucatan;
From Tripoli, from Zuyder Zee, from Greenland and the Nile;
From Tunis and from Samarcand in every shape and style.

From Paraguay, from Baffin’s Bay, from Quito and Sulu;
From Kandahar, from Zanzibar, from Cork and Timbuctoo;
From frigid Omsk and lonely Tomsk, from Mocha and Oolong;
From old Pekin and Fiji in an ever-growing throng.

From Cuba’s shore, from Labrador, from Pango Pang and Nome;
From Borneo and old Saint Jo, from Timbuctoo and Rome;
From Reykjavik, from Bitter Creek they came to swell the muss;
They filled the flat, they killed the cat, they almost smothered us.

Poor Uncle Joe died just last week; in Guam he fell asleep.
He never was a churchly man and so we sit and weep,
And sadly wonder through our tears which way he chanced to go;
But soon he’ll send a postal card and then, of course, we’ll know.
-George Fitch.