Days of Fetch

Beneath the sunlit canopy of sky,
An eight-year-old with laughter high,
Barefoot, carefree, in grass so green,
His border collie bounds, serene.

A stick in hand, a boy's delight,
He flings it far with all his might.
The dog, a shadow swift and true,
Chases dreams in morning’s hue.

Her coat a swirl of black and white,
A comet streaking through the light.
Her eyes, twin sparks of playful glee,
Reflect the boy’s pure jubilee.

The air is sweet with summer’s song,
The hours stretch, the days grow long.
Each toss, a bond both deep and strong,
A timeless dance where both belong.

The boy, now grown, recalls the days,
Of grassy fields and sunny rays,
And though the dog’s no longer near,
Her spirit lingers, ever clear.

For in his heart, he’ll always see,
The boy, the stick, the collie free—
Forever racing through the years,
With boundless love that knows no tears.