In the quiet whisper of dawn’s embrace,Hands weave the dreams of the night,Silent guardians of stories untold,Holding time in their gentle fold.With every touch, a world unfolds,Lines of life etched deep and old,They cradle the moments, both soft and bold,In their tender, timeless hold.Hands that build and hands that mend,Crafting futures with every bend,They reach across the chasms wide,Bridging hearts, side by side.In their strength and in their grace,They dance through life’s intricate lace,Hands, the silent stewards of fate,In their hold, we navigate.