In a garden where wisdom blooms,
Among the whispers of old tunes,
Grandparents gather to share stories,
With gentle hands and hearts laid bare.

Wrinkles map the tales of years,
Each crease is a line of joy and tears,
Their laughter dances in the air,
A melody of love beyond compare.

Timeworn chairs and knitted seams,
Echo the warmth of childhood dreams,
With every smile, a legacy grows,
In the light of their love, the garden glows.

They teach us patience, strength, and grace,
In every wrinkle, a familiar face,
Guiding us through both storm and sun,
Our roots, our shelter, where life's begun.

So here's to the hearts that gently guide,
With open arms and hearts wide,
In every story, in every embrace,
Grandparents, forever, our sacred place.