In the shadows of the heart’s gentle art,
Where Oscar’s whispers softly start,
Love blooms with every tender trace,
In Wilde’s words, a timeless embrace.

Beneath the moon’s soft, silken glow,
Where passions in secret gardens grow,
His love, a dance of shadows and light,
In verses deep, with endless delight.

The echoes of beauty, profound and true,
In every line, his heart renews,
A tapestry woven with grace and fire,
Each word a note in a love-filled choir.

So let us wander in Wilde’s dream,
Where love is more than it may seem,
A symphony of whispered sighs,
In every heart where his legacy lies.