In Stratford’s gentle embrace he was born,
A mind destined to craft worlds anew,
From Avon’s whispers, dreams were sworn,
To London’s stages, where his genius flew.

With quill in hand, he spun tales of old,
Of love and tragedy, kings and fools,
His words, a tapestry of stories told,
In every heart, his wisdom rules.

Through sonnets sweet and plays profound,
A mirror to the human soul he cast,
In every verse, new depths were found,
A legacy enduring, steadfast.

Yet in his time, he walked unknown,
A humble bard in bustling street,
But in his lines, his truth is sown,
A timeless echo, forever replete.