"Generations' Haven"

In summers bright, our footsteps lead

To where the blooming gardens heed.

Grandparents' house, a cherished place,

Where time stands still in warm embrace.

The gate creaks open, welcome wide,

With laughter that cannot be denied.

Beneath the ancient willow tree,

We share our secrets, wild and free.

The kitchen hums with fragrant air,

As Grandma's baking fills us there.

Her hands, a dance of flour and dough,

Create delights that make hearts glow.

In Grandpa's tales of days gone by,

We see the world through wisdom's eye.

His stories weave a magic thread,

Of times before, yet never dead.

The attic holds a treasure trove,

Of memories that gently rove.

Old photographs and letters worn,

A bridge to those who came before.

The nights are soft with whispered breeze,

And fireflies dance among the trees.

We lay beneath the starlit dome,

And dream of far-off lands to roam.

Yet in this place of love and care,

We find a peace beyond compare.

A vacation wrapped in tender light,

At grandparents' house, all feels right.