In the quiet whispers of the fading day,
Where shadows stretch and memories play,
The gentle touch of time’s embrace,
Lines etched with grace upon the face.

The golden hues of autumn leaves,
Dance softly in the cooling breeze,
Each wrinkle tells a story spun,
Of battles lost and victories won.

Eyes that once shone bright with fire,
Now hold the wisdom to inspire,
The ticking clock, a gentle friend,
Guiding softly to the end.

In the stillness of the twilight hour,
There blooms a strength, a gentle power,
To cherish moments, fleeting and dear,
In old age, love and life are clear.