A Midsummer Night’s Tale: In Praise of the Bard

Where Words do dance and passions sing, Shakespeare’s inked ensorcellment, soaring through the infinite expanse of human imagination, takes to wing.

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Hark! Upon this parchment fair,
where quill doth dance and ink doth flair,
I, William Shakespeare, thy humble bard,
doth weave a tale both rich and marred.
Of plays and sonnets, wit and jest, my works have stood the truest test.
From London’s Globe to Stratford’s town,
my words have travelled up and down.

Where Magic Dwells

In fair Verona, where love’s light doth shine,
Romeo and Juliet’s fate entwine.
Macbeth’s ambition, a tenebrous path,
Othello’s jealousy, a tale of wrath.
Midsummer’s night, a dream so bright,
Titania’s spell, Puck’s playful flight.

From Hamlet’s brooding soliloquy,
To Prospero’s magic, wild and free.
The Globe’s stage, where enchantment dwells,
Where players weave wondrous spells.

The Playwright’s Craft

To speak in rhymes, in prose so divine,
To capture hearts, to make them pine.
Comedies that merry make,
Tragedies that hearts doth break.
From fair Rosalind to Cleopatra’s grace,
From Shylock’s pound of flesh to Lear’s mad embrace.

Statue of William Shakespeare

The playwright’s craft, a tempest of words,
A world of kings, of fairies, of swords.
Twelfth Night’s disguises, As You Like It’s forest green,
Richard III’s villainy, a ghastly scene.

Words that Endure

So here I cease, my tale is done,
A tribute to the bard, the only one.
For though my bones beneath the stone do lie,
My words doth live, they take to the skies.
In classrooms, stages, and silver screen,
My works doth play, my words doth keen.
In every line, in every verse,
My legacy lives, for better or worse.

In the hearts of many, my words find home,
In every land, where e’er you roam.
So raise a glass, a toast to me,
The bard of Avon, forever free.

Thus concludes this journey through time,
Of Shakespeare’s works, both playful and prime.
So read my words, with care and delight,
And keep my memory burning bright.
For in these verses, in this rhyme,
Thy spirit doth chime.

Fare thee well, dear reader, adieu,
To Shakespeare’s world, both old and new.

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