In the quiet corners of her home,
Where shadows dance with evening light,
A gentle voice, a soft embrace,
Grandmother’s love, a guiding grace.

Her hands, worn but ever kind,
Craft stories of the days gone by,
Each wrinkle tells a tale of time,
A legacy that will never die.

With every whispered word of care,
She weaves a tapestry of dreams,
Her laughter echoes through the air,
A melody that softly gleams.

In her eyes, the stars align,
A universe of wisdom’s glow,
A beacon in the night’s design,
Grandmother’s heart, a light to follow.