In memory's lane where the stories unfold, Grandad sat with a heart of gold. By beer's gentle glow, laughter would soar, A pint raised high—he'd always want more. He loved the hum of engines purring, Cars on the road, the tires whirring. But the holidays called for the open skies, In a camper van, where freedom lies. Camping by starlight, tales of grace, With every journey, a new embrace. Though he's passed, his spirit steers, In every road traveled, his love perseveres.