Under moonlit skies, where shadows dance,
Love whispers secrets, a timeless trance.
In Wilde’s words, where passion burns bright,
Hearts entwine, in the softest light.

Through gardens of roses, we find our way,
Each petal a promise, each thorn a stay.
Wilde’s love, a tapestry of vibrant hues,
Weaving dreams in the morning dews.

In the silent echo of a lover’s sigh,
We hear Wilde’s verses, as time goes by.
Love, an art, painted with gentle strife,
A canvas of whispers, breathing life.

So let us cherish this love so rare,
In Wilde’s wisdom, beyond compare.
For in his prose, we find our own,
A love eternal, forever known.