In the quiet of the morning light,
He sits beneath the old oak’s shade,
His eyes a map of stories bright,
In whispered tales, his life portrayed.

With hands that weathered storms and sun,
He crafts each word with tender care,
A gentle smile when day is done,
His wisdom hovers in the air.

The seasons dance upon his brow,
Each wrinkle tells a tale of grace,
A guiding star in life’s tableau,
In his embrace, we find our place.

As twilight paints the sky anew,
His legacy, a timeless thread,
In every heart his love rings true,
A grandfather’s path forever spread.