In the gentle weave of twilight’s grace,
Upon the shores of memory’s embrace,
A tapestry of years unfolds,
In whispers of time, stories told.

The silver strands in moonlit glow,
Speak of wisdom, soft and slow,
A dance of shadows, calm and deep,
Where secrets of the heart we keep.

With every breath, the echoes sing,
Of laughter lost and dreams that cling,
In gardens where the roses bloom,
And fragrant past meets future’s room.

Yet in the quiet of the night,
A gentle strength, a guiding light,
Old age, a friend with open arms,
In its embrace, we find our charms.