In the quiet hush of twilight’s gentle call,
Where shadows stretch and memories softly fall,
The years unfold their stories, one by one,
Beneath the fading glow of the setting sun.

Time, the silent sculptor of our days,
Carves lines of wisdom in the subtle haze,
Each wrinkle tells a tale, a life well-spent,
Of laughter, love, and moments heaven-sent.

The heart, though weathered, beats a steady rhyme,
A testament to love that spans through time,
For in the autumn of our fleeting years,
We find the strength that conquers all our fears.

Embrace the grace of age, the golden hue,
Where every dawn brings something fresh and new,
In every breath, a story waits to be told,
In old age, we find beauty, pure and bold.