In Stratford’s quiet, humble birth, he came,
A playwright destined to etch his name
In tales of love, ambition, and despair,
His words a timeless echo in the air.

The Globe, a stage where dreams took flight,
With every line, he painted day and night.
Kings and jesters danced upon his stage,
Each character a witness to his age.

In sonnets sweet, he wove the threads of time,
Capturing beauty in their rhythmic chime.
Yet mysteries of his life remain untold,
A bard whose secrets history can’t unfold.

Though centuries have passed since his last play,
His spirit lingers, never to decay.
For in each verse, his legacy survives,
Enriching hearts and shaping countless lives.