Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Thoughts on Golf

The rolling green
Expanse is seen
A lone man hits on cue;
A first class shot
As like as not
And swiftly followed through.

He stops awhile;
His stance has style
Perhaps he'll light his pipe;
And meditate
Upon the straight
While others come in sight.

Fresh air around;
No other sound
And three more holes to go;
And on the links
He's time to think;
The pleasure's good and slow.

Time passes by
18th is nigh
A pint would go down well;
And golf agree;
What stories they could tell!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

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