In the dawn of our existence, they held our hands tight, Shielding us from the world’s harsh, blinding light. Through…
In the quiet dawn of morning light, they rise, With hands that cradle dreams and hearts so wise. Through trials…
In the quiet whispers of the evening breeze, I hear the stories of yesteryears, Tales of courage and tender care,…
In the quiet shadows of your upbringing, Where words were sparse, yet ever ringing, A silent strength, a stoic grace,…
In the gentle whispers of the breeze, I hear stories of old, tales that never cease, Grandparents’ voices, soft and…