In the soft whispers of the morning light,
She weaves tales of old with tender grace.
Her hands, a map of time’s gentle flight,
Hold stories of love in every trace.
Her laughter, a melody that never fades,
A balm for the weary, a beacon so bright.
Through storms and sunshine, her wisdom pervades,
Her presence, a comfort in the night.
With every stitch, a legacy she weaves,
Her warmth wraps around like a gentle shawl.
In her garden, the heart of life believes,
That love’s gentle touch can conquer all.
Oh, grandmother, guardian of dreams untold,
Your spirit lives on, a guiding star.
In the tapestry of life, your threads of gold,
Bind us together, no matter how far.