In Inwood’s shade I softly tread,
A crown of dreams upon my head.
A tiny frame, a noble grace,
A sleepy smile upon my face.
They say I’m twelve, a gentle age,
With years that whisper like a sage.
My coat is grey, my eyes are wide,
I walk with peace and dainty pride.
My favorite toy? A hedgehog squeak,
And Big Bird soft with yellow beak.
No fluttered wings, no flying tricks—
They warm my heart with cuddly bliss.
Each morning starts with food and yawn,
Then back to sleep till well past dawn.
No rush, no race, I’ve made my peace—
In stillness, life finds sweet release.
In summer’s light, I come alive,
I walk where trees and grasses thrive.
But winter’s chill, I do resist,
Wrapped in warmth, by breezes kissed.
I stroll through Inwood’s winding trails,
Past leafy nooks and rustling veils.
The football grass, I sometimes grace,
Then pause to nap in nature’s embrace.
My human friend walks by my side,
A cap pulled low, with steady stride.
His beard is light, his heart is kind,
Together we leave cares behind.
With dainty limbs and silken stride,
I move with quiet, regal wit.
No barks, no leaps, no frantic blitz—
And that is why they call me Fritz.