Through the gentle waves of silken hair,
Stories weave and memories share.
Each strand a tale, each curl a song,
Whispering secrets, forgotten for long.

In the twilight, as the sun descends,
Locks of gold and brown, they blend.
A dance of light, a cascade of hues,
Reflecting dreams and midnight blues.

Through the years, as seasons pass,
The hair transforms, like blades of grass.
From youthful shine to silvered grace,
Each phase a testament, each line a trace.

Embrace the journey, cherish each phase,
For in your hair, the past always stays.
A living canvas, a timeless art,
The strands of life, woven into your heart.