In whispered winds of time’s embrace,
Where shadows stretch and moments flee,
The sonnet sings of fleeting grace,
In echoes of eternity.
Through verses woven, time reveals,
The tender touch of days gone by,
In every line, the heart conceals,
The silent march of time’s soft sigh.
Yet in this dance of words and rhyme,
A promise lingers, bold and bright,
That love and beauty, through all time,
Will shine beyond the fading light.
O gentle muse, in sonnet’s spell,
Let not thy tender truth depart,
For in thy lines, time’s tale we tell,
The endless journey of the heart.