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A poem without the letter e?

Atop a hill, a jolly lad

Clad in garb, plaid in Scottish mad,

His hair a wild, untamed mass,

His laughs abound, a boisterous lad.

From dawn till dusk, with joy contagious,

His antics bring a mirth contagious,

His words spill forth, a wondrous batch,

A gift from gods, that Scottish lad.

No pomp nor frill does ha attach,

His humor spills, a hearty catch,

His stories flow, a magic charm,

His joy unbridl'd, a Scottish charm.

In highland glens, his voice rings strong,

His ballads soar, a joyful throng,

His spirit roams, forever young,

A Scottish bard, his tales unsung.

So raise a glass and toast this lad,

His Scottish wit, a jolly cad,

May laughter bloom wherever ha trod,

A timeless soul, this highland lad.

Poetry

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