Close eyes and imagine the shot
Tempo, tempo, guts in a knot
Dodge the bunker, skip the water
Catch the snitch like Harry Potter

Dip it, Hook it, Skull it, Blade it
Pure it, Draw it, Crush it, Fade it
Tiny fairways hiding from view
Third ball lost and haven't a clue

What club would Lee Trevino use
Can the six take this rough abuse
Which wedge will get it to the green
Does this game make nice people mean

Birdies rare as molten gold
Bogies come as a double fold
Score as high as Jeff Spicoli
Each cup seems to have a goalie

And then, just when all hope is gone
The perfect swing, ball sweet and long
Lands soft just inches from the flag
And it will be hard not to brag

Volunteer for torturous rounds
Swing the clubs and stalk the grounds
You'll know you've gone around the bend
When you can't wait to go out again

Had a fantastic golf round today with my brother, my brother-in-law and my nephew. We didn't play that well, but we had an awesome time. Such is often the way with the game of golf. Inspired the poem. Thought I'd share.

Thanks for reading, off to write!



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