Within the quiet hours of the day,
A memory lingers, doesn't fade away.
A man of wisdom, with a heart so kind,
My grandpa dear, a treasure I find.
Through wrinkled hands and silvered hair,
He carried stories, burdens to bear.
A lullaby whispered, a comforting song,
In his gentle gaze, where I belonged.
The garden we planted, a shared delight,
His laughter echoing through the night.
With tales of yesteryears, he'd regale,
A ship of memories set to sail.
But time, a thief, stole his vibrant glow,
Leaving echoes in the fading afterglow.
Frailty touched his once sturdy frame,
Yet, in his eyes, the same love aflame.
The clock's relentless ticking drum,
A reminder of days that had succumbed.
Each tick, a heartbeat, a moment passed,
A symphony of memories, fading fast.
As shadows lengthen, and daylight wanes,
A tearful melody of whispered refrains.
The echo of his laughter, a distant shore,
Grandpa, a legend, forevermore.
Through teardrops that silently cascade,
His presence lingers in the memories made.
In the hush of the evening, I softly weep,
For the grandpa's love, so tender and deep.
In the canvas of time, his portrait remains,
A moments of love, where sorrow restrains.
About the Creator
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Comments (1)
You create a sense of nostalgia and longing in the very first stanza. The image of a memory that "lingers, doesn't fade away" suggests that your grandfather's love is still very much alive in your heart.