Bob Burchill  
Willie P. Bennett ..... October 26, 1951 - February 15, 2008   
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Bob Burchill…London
Memorial for Willie P. Bennett
Feb 17,08  7:00 am.

Willie joined us with his harp, he came up to the stage.  We jammed it out in Burlington, longest set I ever played.  circa1980
Willie P. Bennett - Photo: Scott Sandeman-Allen
Photo: Scott Sandeman-Allen

I heard the news this mourning. Did it have to rain today?
It’s hard enough to face bad news, without a sky of grey.
Fare thee well, my old true friend, we'll play your songs and cry
I’ll think of you on rainy days when long lone trains pass by.

Willie was so fine to know, he loved people, an’ he loved fun
Songs were a deeper hue of blue, while he played with one.
He sang of hobos, strength and love, the songs were deep and clear
Gave a voice, to those with none, which now, we all can hear.

Every time I play blues harp, I'll find you in the notes
Lace and pretty flowers, and other songs you wrote.

Sweet sad moods his voice could cast.
His mouth-harp added wind-waved grass.
A mischievous spark behind his grin,
He painted joy with his mandolin.
When, my time here has ended,
            …………. my last earth song is sung.
I know that in that heavenly place,
            …………. the jam has just begun.

In my heaven, the way I think.
    …………. There'll be a place to get a drink.
The crowd will all know all your songs.
            …….….  Eagerly they sing along.
The sound on stage will be sublime.
           …………. The rhythm will be tight.
Among the stars more harmony.
                     ……….…. Brightens up the night.

Every time I play a harp I'll find you in the notes
Lace and pretty flowers and other songs you wrote.

So here's to you Willie P.
            …….We raise our glasses high.
We'll toast your work and friendship,
            ….until the bar runs dry
You've left us with your stories,
            … you made us laugh and cry
We'll toast and tell your stories,
            …… until the bar runs dry! …

Thank you, man!

B. Burchill


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