In the quiet of the evening light,
I hear his stories echo, soft and bright.
His words, a tapestry of days gone by,
Weaving lessons under the twilight sky.

His hands, though aged, were strong and true,
Crafting dreams in every task he’d pursue.
With every wrinkle, a tale was spun,
Of battles fought and victories won.

His laughter, a melody pure and sweet,
Brought warmth and joy to all he’d meet.
In his embrace, I found my peace,
A love that would never cease.

Though he’s gone, his spirit remains,
A guiding star through life’s terrains.
In every moment, his wisdom’s glow,
Grandfather’s love, forever to show.