In the quiet of twilight, he appears,
An old-fashioned boy with eyes like cerulean skies.
His laughter, a melody that dances on the breeze,
Echoes of forgotten tales and whispered sighs.
His hands, calloused from tending to dreams,
Weave stories into the fabric of time.
He wears nostalgia like a well-worn coat,
A relic of yesteryears, a poet's rhyme.
His gaze holds secrets of forgotten sunsets,
And in those azure depths, constellations reside.
He walks the path of memories, a wanderer,
Guided by the stars, where love and longing collide.
Oh, old-fashioned boy with eyes so true,
You're a chapter in a book I've yet to read.
May your heart remain untamed, your spirit wild,
As you dance through life, planting seeds of need.
For in your blue-eyed gaze, I find solace,
A timeless tale spun from threads of grace.
An old-fashioned boy, forever etched in memory,
Whose essence lingers, leaving a trace.
