Pony Boy Poem by Tom Billsborough

It's Spring again, my Pony Boy,
Yet we are still apart,
My only comfort is I hope
You sing with birds
And share your passion
In the bright sunlight,
Astonished at the change of season!
For now, there is no-one to praise you
To call you my bright boy.
I reflect upon the places
We both of us enjoy;
The hills, the valley streams,
Beneath the trees
Beyond our garden gate;
But maybe best to fall asleep
To bring forgetfulness,
As the Kind sun warms
My aging back.