In silent whispers, Time does softly tread,
Through fleeting moments, swift and undefined,
Like shadows cast as daylight starts to fade,
Its gentle hands shape dreams we leave behind.

The golden sun that warms the morning dew,
Will set again beyond the distant hills,
And as it sinks, the hours silently accrue,
A testament to Time’s relentless wills.

Yet in our hearts, where love and memory dwell,
Time’s cruel advance finds no dominion there,
For every cherished tale we long to tell,
Defies the march of Time with tender care.

So let us hold these moments close and near,
In sonnets whispered ‘neath the moonlit sky,
For though Time’s passage we may sometimes fear,
Within our hearts, its grasp we can defy.