In golden hue, the sun doth rise,
And casts its light upon azure skies.
A color rare, a vibrant shade,
That brings delight, where’er displayed.
A swan, the creature I declare,
Graceful and proud, beyond compare.
Its feathered wings, so pure and white,
A symbol of love, in their flight.
Behold, a quill, a writer’s tool,
A vessel for thoughts, both wise and cool.
With ink, it dances on parchment fair,
Recording tales of love and despair.
Two men, entwined in love’s embrace,
Their hearts aflame, a sacred space.
Their souls, like colors, boldly blend,
A love that knows no earthly end.
For love, dear friends, knows no confines,
Nor limits set by space or times.
In Shakespeare’s world, love conquers all,
Where colors, creatures, and objects enthrall.
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