Grand green leaves, an aspect of lifetime,
They move so benevolently on the arrival of a cry allied with bell chimes.
To welcome a spirit, so dear to their natured heart,
And paint a vision, for they would perform in spirit’s days, a part.
Oh, the grand trees who embrace their grandchild in their branches,
For it echoed their saplings, who now grown, stand amongst the grasses.
And they offered the young one, apples of knowledge,
As he bit into the fruit, chronicles unravel and stories they acknowledge.
And the grand trunk of dear, offered a space to rest,
Retold of cradling an infant on a mother’s chest.
And dear, how the trees loved to grant,
To offer materials and morals, as pleasantly attend to their grandchild’s rant.
But won’t it ache anyone a day, when the child who would arrive to frolic around,
Is no more spotted midst the garden, climbing branches and making sounds?
Now he treads maturely on the lane beyond, lays an eye but he didn’t head,
While the trees craved the time, missing the little seconds they shared.
And every time the grandchild would visit,
The branches greeted with open arms and beckoned beside to sit.
But it didn’t sense the same as before,
For he wasn’t the age to rock on branches or have a while to rest beneath the trunk no more.
Grandparents are our giving trees,
Creating and revealing moments of our legacies.
And all they ask for is your care, love, and time,
And surely, you can offer that for some time!
They understand you’re busy nowadays,
And they recall you as a younger one in their garden to play.
And here’s to ring a bell on how incredible they are,
They’re proud of you eternally, whether you’re near or afar.
So thank you, our giving trees, for all that you do.
For secretly offering us sweets, taking us out when we felt blue.
And for sharing the knowledge too, we embrace you in our arms,
Thank you, grandparents, for being our gleaming stars!