In the quiet of the morning light,
Grandpa sits with stories to recite,
Tales of yore and wisdom’s might,
Guiding us through darkest night.

His hands, though worn, are gentle and kind,
Crafting memories, like threads, they bind,
A legacy of love, we cannot rewind,
In his embrace, solace we find.

Eyes that twinkle with a thousand dreams,
Reflecting life’s ever-flowing streams,
Through joy and sorrow, his presence redeems,
Painting life in vibrant beams.

And though the years may steal his grace,
His spirit lingers, time cannot erase,
In every smile, in every place,
Grandpa’s love, an endless embrace.