In the backyard in the midday sun on the concrete path he lay
Old Tim the dog is frail and old he's seen a better day
He slept there in the midday warmth and to him came the dream
That he was young and fit again and full of self esteem.

He raced along the sunlit field pursuing the quick brown hare
The warm wind blowing from the south was ruffling his brown hair
A three year old dog in his prime the hare dodged left and right
His master Jimmy cheered him on and laughed loud in delight.

The hare raced through a rushy patch and up the bushy height
And he made his clean getaway when Tim of him lost sight
he returned to his master Jim who gently stroked his head
'It's not your fault he got away 'you good dog Tim' he said.

He awoke from his pleasant dream the birds sang on the trees
And on the flower patch in the yard the small brown honey bees
Were busily gathering nectar their droning soft and low
And from their hive in neighbour's yard were buzzing to and fro.

He dozed again and as he slept he had another dream
He was a young dog rising two and strong and fit and lean
The bull terrier from across the way attacked him on the street
But he pinned the bully to the bitumen and victory tasted sweet.

His master Jimmy felt so proud he said 'you good dog Tim'
I did not think that you would prove more than a match for him
This was a moment he'd recall when looking back in time
He was the top dog on the block and near his glorious prime.

He woke again on the backyard the sun was shining bright
And butterflies were flitting in the beautiful sunlight
Just for a moment he'd been young and older dogs seemed slow
And he was in his marvellous prime ten glorious years ago.

He dozed again another dream the night was black as pitch
As he copulated in the grove with a dark collie bitch
He'd fought another dog for her and had frightened him away
She stayed with him all through the night and she left him in the day.

He woke again this time he stood and down the path walked slow
And on the flower patch in the yard the bees droned soft and low
His once brown muzzle now quite gray the years on him now show
And he was in his marvellous prime ten glorious years ago.

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