Wrinkled hands hold tiny thumbs,
A bridge of love, where laughter hums.
Grandparent's eyes, a well of light,
Reflecting stories, warm and bright.
Gentle whispers, tales untold,
Of heroes brave and dragons bold.
A rocking chair, a rhythmic sway,
Chasing worries far away.
Sun-kissed cheeks on silvered hair,
Kisses shared, a loving pair.
Cookies warm, with secrets shared,
Treasures found, a love declared.
Button noses pressed so near,
Whispered dreams the children hear.
Lessons learned on seasoned knees,
Planted seeds for life to please.
Tiny fingers trace a face,
A wrinkled map, with love's embrace.
Time may fly, the years may turn,
This tender bond, forever burn.
About the Creator
Buzu
Verses sculpted from the heart, I'm a poet navigating emotions with ink-stained fingertips. Crafting tales that dance between reality and dreams, my words paint a symphony of feelings in the canvas of life. 📜✨ #PoetLife #Wordsmith
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm5 days ago in Fiction
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