A Poem to Max... By Adam

In Edinburg town, a boy named Max,

Brown hair and joy, never lax,

He rode his bike, through cobbled ways,

A Scottish lad, in sunlit haze.

With siblings near, Max played his tricks,

A naughty boy, with sly, sly picks,

He teased and laughed, chased them through,

The bond they shared, forever true.

Max loved to roam, explore, and play,

Mushrooms he'd find, in woods all day,

He danced and biked, with boundless glee,

A kilt-clad lad, forever free.

The bagpipes' tune, his joyous cheer,

Max pedaled fast, with laughter near,

Through Highland mist, the mushrooms' grace,

He cycled on, a wondrous race.

In Edinburg town, where Max did dwell,

His tale of mushrooms, bikes, retell,

A brown-haired boy, who loved to roam,

In dear old Scotland, he found his home.

Airborne Raptors... by Brian

Loch Ness... By Gabe

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