Dan The Man

Dan is a man from an old Scottish clan,
He wears the ol' tartan whenever he can.
He wears it in winter, in spring, and in fall,
But Dan, in the summer, wears nothin' at all.

Many a person has turned a blind eye,
As Dan, through the streets, he would streak right on by.
There ne'er has been such a town so upset,
As Dan's little town, oh how angry they'd get!

They'd scream and they'd cry, those poor passersby,
As Dan the man ran down the lane quick and spry.
Each day they would yell to Danny ol' boy,
"A wee bit o' clothin' would sure bring some joy!"

Then one day dear Danny was runnin' along,
Blissfully hummin' his favorite song-
When all of a sudden came out of the trees,
A big angry cloud of ill-tempered bees.

He ran and he ran, but his legs were no match,
For the bees, they were gainin', poor Danny to catch.
He came in to town all stung-up and hurtin',
There never was one quite so sore, I am certain.

And from that day forward, in summer or not,
Dan's sportin' his tartan, no matter how hot.

Another brilliant poem from the likes of yer sister.
Elise