In the gentle rustle of the autumn leaves,Grandad’s stories softly weave,Tales of courage, hope, and grace,In the garden’s warm embrace.
His voice, a soothing lullaby,Guiding stars across the sky,With every word, a seed is sown,In the heart, his wisdom grown.
Through the fields where memories linger,Time slips through his weathered fingers,Yet in each moment shared anew,His spirit shines, forever true.
As twilight settles on the land,I feel the warmth of Grandad’s hand,A legacy of love and light,Guiding me through the darkest night.