whispers of dust

More about whispers of dust

In forgotten corners where shadows dance,
The whispers of childhood weave a sweet romance.
Beneath the old eaves where time holds its breath,
Lies a tapestry rich, spun in moments of depth.

The creak of the floorboards, a familiar tune,
Sings of sun-drenched days and the glow of the moon.
A patchwork of laughter on walls worn and bare,
Holds echoes of secrets floated in the air.

The garden once vibrant, now tangled with weeds,
Replays the soft whispers of wildflower seeds.
Each petal a memory of summer's sweet grace,
Of barefoot adventures in time's warm embrace.

In the attic, a treasure of trinkets once bright,
Old toys lie in slumber, lost in the night.
A doll with a smile, a soldier in blue,
Guarding the dreams of the spirits that flew.

Oh, how the echoes of innocence fade,
As seasons keep turning, and young hearts invade.
But within every shadow, a glimmer remains,
A soft, tender song in the rustle of rains.

So linger a moment in those dusty halls,
Where the heartbeats of youths still bounce off the walls.
For memories sparkle like stars in the night,
In forgotten corners, where love shines so bright.