New Pages From DeerLake Designs
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New Pages From DeerLake Designs
Search the DeerLake Sites for More Fun Pages
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Ode To Golf Poem In my hand I hold a ball White and dimpled, rather small Oh, how bland it does appear,
By his size I could not guess The awesome strength it does possess; My life has not been quite the same Since I chose to play this game. It rules my mind for hours on end. A fortune it has made me spend. It has made me curse and cry I hate myself and want to die I am promised a thing called ‘par’ If I can hit it straight and far.
To master such a tiny ball Should not be very hard at all. But my desires the ball refuses And does exactly as it chooses It hooks and slices, dribbles, dies and disappears before my eyes. Often it will have a whim To hit a tree or take a swim.
With miles of grass on which to land It finds a tiny patch of sand. Then has me offering up my soul If it will just drop in the hole. Its made me whimper like a pup, and swear that I will give it up And take to drink to ease my sorrow. But “The Ball” knows... I’ll be back...tomorrow.
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 Inspirational
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