Golf, Stupid Game.

a poem by Mark Ainslie, UK



Never ever thought I would play this stupid game,
I am really glad I did though, all the same.
When my son came home with a new golf kit,
I asked him what was he going to do with it.

I am taking up playing golf is what he replied,
Now that is one game I had never tried.
Come with me sometime, you might be good,
I very much doubted that, but told him I would.

First ever time on a golf course finally here,
Which club to use, absolutely no idea.
Out of my comfort zone, but trying my best,
I've hit a few good shots, and hacked the rest.

To my surprise I enjoyed our game,
Could not wait to try and play again.
What I needed now was clubs of my own.
Most addictive thing I have ever known.

More confident with time, playing without fear,
Much better now, with all my own gear.
Standing over my ball on the first tee,
Pressure is on, the players behind watching me.

Will the drive be good and down the fairway,
Or will the ball be scuffed and go astray,
Will I be able to proudly walk towards the flag,
Or will I be embarrassed as club goes back in bag.

Hitting a ball with a stick, taking aim,
Getting wet with the sudden burst of rain.
Stuck in a sandpit, just can't get out,
Sometimes wonder what this game is about.

Some great hours I've had, real quality time,
Playing a round, with family and friends of mine.
You may hit a great shot every now and again,
Gives you encouragement to play golf stupid game.

Copyright Mark Ainslie 2016

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