In the morning’s golden hue, they rise,
With gentle hands that shape our days,
Whispering tales of times gone by,
In their eyes, the world softly sways.

They weave the threads of love and care,
In every smile, a story spins,
Their laughter, like a gentle breeze,
A soothing balm for weary sins.

Guardians of our tender years,
Their wisdom a guiding light,
Through storms of life, they stand so firm,
A beacon shining ever bright.

With every hug, a world unfolds,
A legacy of warmth and grace,
In their embrace, we find our home,
A timeless love that time won’t erase.