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;
Philosophy
And golf agree;
What stories they could tell!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
0 comments:
Post a Comment