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Golf
I wish I was a great golfer playing with pros,
And played my rounds well under par for 18 holes.
I envy the talents of those players they show
On tour. I’m sure you know they make big dough.
I’ve had lessons and practice driving on the range,
Yet, when I hit the ball, my swing is very strange.
I keep my head down and my eyes upon the ball,
But, when I swing the club, sometimes I fall.
I slice, hook, and hit more mulligans than good shots,
Putting over again add strokes to my score by a lot.
I bought a video of Nicklaus and Palmer,
And try to relax before I golf to make me calmer.
Still, it’s no use; I’m just another duffer.
Playing golf is the self-abuse I choose to suffer.
Yet, I play the game it gets me out of the house,
Away from my kids and nagging of my lovely spouse.
One day, after I hit my hole-in-one,
I’ll break my clubs and give up all this fun.
Until then, I’ll play with my big handicap,
Making believe it’s for my game people clap.
- COMMENTS
William smythalmost 15 years agoHow many readers get through this author's extensive list of great erotic stories to read and enjoy his poems? This one rings true for me and about a million other hackers.
