In a sunlit park where the shadows play,
A child skips softly, bright as the day.
With laughter like bells, pure and clear,
They wander the paths, with naught to fear.
In weathered fingers, a gentle clasp,
The child reaches up, a trusting grasp.
An elderly hand, seasoned by time,
Wraps ‘round the small one, gentle yet prime.
Stories of yesteryears gleam in those eyes,
As the child listens, with wonder that flies—
Of dreams like kites in a wide open sky,
Of whispers of love that never say goodbye.
The crinkles and lines tell of battles fought,
Of joy and of sorrow, of lessons once taught.
Yet in the soft touch of two worlds at play,
A bridge is formed, come what may.
The child spins tales of dragons and stars,
While the elder recalls the beauty in scars.
They share in the moment, in laughter and grace,
Time bonding their hearts in this tender space.
With each little squeeze, a promise is spun,
That love transcends ages, that two become one.
And as twilight descends, with its warm, golden hue,
A child holds a hand that has weathered, yet knew.
So let them walk on, through the shadows and light,
For in simple connections, the world feels just right.
In the warmth of their clasp, the future unfolds,
In the heart of a child, and the wisdom of old.
What do you see # 257- 7 October, 2024 – Keep it alive (lifeafter50forwomen.com)

Talk to me! I love comments!