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On the lush green expanse of the golf course,
A solitary figure strides with purposeful grace,
Swinging the club with precision and skill,
Each shot a dance between player and place.
The sun's golden rays kiss the fairways,
Casting a warm glow over the landscape,
As the golfer navigates the challenges ahead,
With focus and determination, no escape.
Birds chirp in the trees, a serene soundtrack,
As the ball soars through the crisp air,
A moment of pure connection and joy,
In this tranquil oasis without a care.
The gentle swish of the club meeting the ball,
A satisfying sound that echoes in the quiet,
A game of skill, strategy, and patience,
A timeless pursuit, a true delight.
So here on the golf course, in nature's embrace,
A golfer finds peace, a moment to unwind,
In this elegant dance of player and course,
A symphony of beauty, for the soul to find.
- COMMENTS
erectus1233 months agoSweet poem, golf is the only sport made for television, beautiful greens, blue sky, etc.
