In the quiet of the evening’s glow,Her gentle voice begins to flow.With tales of days long past and gone,She brings the past to life at dawn.Her eyes, a window to the years,Reflect the laughter, joy, and tears.With every word, a world unfolds,In her embrace, warmth untold.The scent of cookies, warm and sweet,As she rocks gently in her seat.Her hands, though worn, weave magic still,In every stitch, her love instills.Through her stories, wisdom’s thread,In every lesson, hopes are spread.Grandmother’s love, a timeless art,Forever cherished in my heart.