In the garden of memories, they bloom,
Grandchildren, like flowers, dispelling the gloom.
With laughter as pure as morning dew,
They bring joy that feels ever new.

Their tiny hands, so soft and small,
Hold the power to melt us all.
Eyes that sparkle with endless wonder,
Their presence, a spell we are under.

Stories are told under starry skies,
Of dreams and wishes, of lows and highs.
Their innocent questions, a curious delight,
Guiding our hearts through the darkest night.

The legacy of love, passed through time,
Their spirits echo, a sweet chime.
Grandchildren, treasures beyond measure,
In their smiles, we find life’s true pleasure.