J.B.'s Message Board Billy
Billy, thine voice is like a spring breeze that blows through leaves of an enchanting evening.
by Velmar Pewee Hale Johnson
As I sit beneath an oak tree, dreams of thee flood my mind.
I stretch under a maple tree, and look up at the sky, I see traces of Thee in each passing cloud.
I imagine thee a king, in a castle of the days of old,
slaying a mighty dragon with thy golden sword.
As I close mine eyes now, I again imagine thee.
Sleep sweet prince till the sound of a gentle wind blows through the leaves, and the birds once again chirp happily in their trees.