In the heart of Stratford, a boy was born,
With dreams that through the ages have adorned.
His pen would craft a world of timeless lore,
A legacy that time could not ignore.

From the humble streets to the grandiose stage,
His words became the voice of every age.
Kings and clowns, love and woe entwined,
In each line, his soul we find.

The Globe would rise, a beacon of light,
Where tales of passion took their flight.
His quill, a sword, cut through the night,
Bringing forth both delight and fright.

Though centuries pass, his spirit remains,
In every sonnet, in every refrains.
The bard of Avon, forever hailed,
In the hearts of men, his story regaled.