Golf Humor Poetry:- Ode to the Fanatical Golfer (Part One)

 

He wanted golf to be experienced by all, And hoped his daughter would heed the call."C'mon!", he said. "You'll have a ball!""Why?", she asked. "Are we going to the mall?"

He'd often take his golf cart to work, And all his co-workers there would smirk. He didn't know why, and thought, "They're jerks!""How could they belittle such a perk?!"

His swing was big and grand, yet dopey, He cried and cried when he made a bogey. Kids thought, "What's wrong with this old fogey?"He thought, "I'm not old. I sport a goatee."

He loved his old and tattered bag, His caddie thought it was such a drag. But he hated more "golf cart tag",The golfer played with him, when he didn't move the flag!

Forever chasing the elusive par, He'd hit the ball straight and far. In the traps, his ball seemed stuck to tar! He'd still be there, when "parking" had narrey a car!

He loved the smell of the "fresh-cut green",But to him it proved such a fiend. It's favor to him, was always lean! Despite it's beauty, it could be so mean!

The point of golf? To put the ball in the hole. You do that with a "curved-end' pole. But the path, always guarded by a "troll",Or maybe yet, some "ticked-off" mole!

He was never any good in the traps, In fact, his "game" would always flap. But to others, it seemed to sit on their laps, While he was reduced to stomping his cap!

He'd read the "mags" to take his golf game higher. He wanted the best ball--best putter---best driver. Often going to his wife to borrow a "fiver",She wouldn't budge. No matter how hard he tried to "jive" her!

To the links, early morning he'd often travel, Sometimes his bathrobe and pajamas his only apparel. Unfortunately, the knot would often unravel, After jumping up and down at a lucky roll, he'd marvel!

Copyright 2005 by Kevin D. Rolle. All rights reserved.

 



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