In the quiet corners of their home,
Where time seems to gently pause,
Grandparents weave tales of old,
With voices like a soothing balm.

Their eyes, a tapestry of wisdom,
Glimmer with stories untold,
Of laughter shared and tears shed,
In moments both big and small.

Hands that cradle dreams anew,
Guiding with a tender touch,
They plant seeds of hope and love,
In hearts eager to learn and grow.

Through seasons of joy and sorrow,
Their love remains steadfast and true,
A beacon that lights the way,
For generations to cherish and hold.