“golfing is great”

In early light where grasses gleam,  
Awake, the greens begin their dream—  
A ribboned fairway, soft and wide,  
Invites the hopeful to confide  
In whispered winds and ancient trees  
That frame the course with gentle ease.  

A driver’s swing, a chorus bright,  
The ball takes off in arcing flight,  
A moment caught in silent cheer  
As friends and strangers, standing near,  
Share laughs that rise like warm June air—  
Gold sun-flash on your favorite pair.  

The bunker lies—a pale surprise—  
But watch the artist’s hands devise  
A gentle loft, a dance of sand  
That spirals, lands upon the land,  
And hearts ascend: oh, golfing days  
Are stitched with simple, perfect plays.  

A putter’s hush along the green,  
The world grows soft and hearts grow keen;  
The flag flares bright against the sky  
(You hardly need to wonder why  
This gentle game beneath the sun  
Binds all its players, every one).  

So here’s to golf, that patient friend,  
Whose stories neither boast nor end—  
A walk, a dream, a game, a waltz,  
Where every swing forgets its faults,  
And time moves slow upon the tee:  
Yes, golfing’s great—for you and me.

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