Whispers in the Attic

Beneath the attic's gentle, wooden loom,
I wove my wonders, treasures small but bright,
A haven tucked within my childhood room.

I crouched beneath the beams to feel their might,
Their arching curves a shield from all my fears,
And watched the shadows shift with waning light. 

In that small world, where silence calmed my tears,
I found peace beneath the rafters' bloom,
A hidden space where I could leave behind the years. 

The attic door aglow, a sacred room,
Where shadows fade, and memories take flight,
I find my peace beneath the quiet gloom. 

#TerzaRima

A Walk to Remember

Your steps are slow, but steady still,
We walk the path beneath the hill.
Your hand in mine, once strong, now frail,
Yet full of stories you regale.

The autumn leaves, like memories, fall,
A tapestry of times we recall.
You speak of days when I was small,
Your love the thread that wove it all.

The air is crisp, the evening near,
Yet in your eyes, the past is clear.
You smile and tell me not to cry,
For love like ours will never die.

Though years may pass and seasons turn,
These moments stay, as lessons burn.
A walk to remember, side by side,
With you, my mother, my heart, my guide.