Golf Poems

[MmmmmmBuddy]

The Itsy Bitsy Monza

Teamed up with SuperDeep

Down went the scores

Then rising with the heat

Came the Super Launch irons;

This game is now my friend!!

As my Itsy Bitsy Monza

Hits birdie town again.

[jamo]

Nice poem, but what happened to the CB1's!?!

[MmmmmmBuddy]

Nice poem, but what happened to the CB1's!?!

I am still playing the CB1's, and will continue for quite some time. The poem was just for fun.

[GolfSpy Dave]

Shouldn't there be a stanza about the spider flying or swimming?

[Matt Saternus]

Glad to hear that your putting woes are gone. Creepster avatar though.

[jamo]

I am still playing the CB1's, and will continue for quite some time. The poem was just for fun.

 

Ok, you just seemed so excited for the CB1's, I was surprised you would even go for the SuperFasts, but just for fun makes more sense.

[Dave]

Slow day at work huh

[MmmmmmBuddy]

Slow day at work huh

Very..... I wish it would quit raining...

[Stephen_Peszel]

Lifted from Swing by Swing Golf.

 

In My Hand I Hold A Ball,

White And Dimpled, And Rather Small.

 

Oh How Bland It Does Appear,

This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.

 

By Its Size I Could Not Guess,

Of The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.

 

But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,

I've Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.

 

My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,

Since I Chose To Play This Game.

 

It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,

A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.

 

It Has Made Me Curse And Made Me Cry,

And Hate Myself And Want To Die.

 

It Promises Me A Thing Called Par,

If I Hit It Straight And Hit it Far.

 

To Master Such A Tiny Ball,

Should Not Be Very Hard At All.

 

But My Desires The Ball Refuses,

And Does Exactly As It Chooses.

 

It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,

And Disappears Before My Eyes.

 

Often It Will Have A Whim,

To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.

 

With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land,

It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.

 

Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul,

If Only It Would Find The Hole.

 

It's Made Me Whimper Like A Pup

And Swear That I Will Give It Up.

 

And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,

But The Ball Knows ... I'll Be Back Tomorrow.

[Justin66]

Thanks for posting this! Very funny and hits close to home...

[GriffinTheGolfingGuy]

The Game of the Land

 

Pristine green lushness and

slightly cool breezes,

soft chirps of birds and

soft blades of grass,

trees full of life,

sand full of pebbles and stones,

not a cloud in the sky.

 

Sparkling metals and butter like irons emerge from the bag,

they are primed to smash the earth

and launch

the perfectly still, teed golf ball.

 

Swift motion shocks as

compelling strikes penetrate the air leading to

unprecedented excitement.

The soft thump of dimples leaves divots upon untouched greens.

Smiles arise from those closest the three-inch goal.

 

The time is merry and full of entertainment,

the players face the challenge of conquering the land but

that doesn't change a thing.

There is not a drop of doubt in these four,

today will be a great day for some golf.

[Shankster]

Heck of an intro. Welcome aboard Griffin.

[00sportsman]

Very nice. Wish I was that creative.

 

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[Miboy62]

Nice job, welcome to the site

[tony@CIC]

Welcome Griffen, you've set a new standard.

 

 

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[Flipper554]

Nice bit of prose. Welcome to the forum!

[robertson153]

Welcome. Don't hold back, just dive on in.

 

 

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[Kenny B]

Welcome from the Pacific Northwest!  Glad you joined us.  Nice poem!

[HardcoreLooper]

Welcome to the forum. Quite an intro post!

[Brian A]

I like it!

[TheWahoo]

Excellent prose.  I envy your creativity and poetic talent.   Below is the best that I can do:

 

Its morning and thankfully I have awaken

Play a game named golf because the other four letter words were taken

I may not hit the best drive

But at least I'll stay alive

I know I will have fun

Because I don't need to run.

[RickyBobby_PR]

A lil something to put a smile on your face on this monday

In My Hand I Hold A Ball,

White And Dimpled, Rather Small.

Oh, How Bland It Does Appear,

This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.



By Its Size I Could Not Guess,

The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.

But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,

I've Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.



My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,

Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.

It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,

A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.



It Has Made Me Yell, Curse And Cry,

I Hate Myself And Want To Die.

It Promises A Thing Called Par,

If I Can Hit It Straight And Far



To Master Such A Tiny Ball,

Should Not Be Very Hard At All.

But My Desires The Ball Refuses,

And Does Exactly As It Chooses.



It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,

And Even Disappears Before My Eyes.

Often It Will Have A Whim,

To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.



With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land,

It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.

Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul,

If Only It Would Find The Hole.



It's Made Me Whimper Like A Pup,

And Swear That I Will Give It Up.

And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,

But The Ball Knows ... I'll Be Back Tomorrow.



Stand proud you noble swingers of clubs and losers of  balls ...



A recent study found the average golfer walks about 900 miles a year.



Another study found golfers drink, on  average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.



That means, on average, golfers get about  41 miles to the gallon.



Kind of makes you proud.  I Almost feel like a hybrid.

 

Author unknown

[tony@CIC]

Not sure if this one has ever appeared here. 

 

In My Hand I Hold A Ball,

White And Dimpled, Rather Small.

Oh, How Bland It Does Appear,  

This Harmless Looking Little Sphere.

 

By Its Size I Could Not Guess,

The Awesome Strength It Does Possess.

But Since I Fell Beneath Its Spell,

I've Wandered Through The Fires Of Hell.

 

My Life Has Not Been Quite The Same,

Since I Chose To Play This Stupid Game.

It Rules My Mind For Hours On End,

A Fortune It Has Made Me Spend.

 

It Has Made Me Yell, Curse And Cry,

I Hate Myself And Want To Die.

It Promises A Thing Called Par,

If I Can Hit It Straight And Far.

 

To Master Such A Tiny Ball,

Should Not Be Very Hard At All.

But My Desires The Ball Refuses,

And Does Exactly As It Chooses.

 

It Hooks And Slices, Dribbles And Dies,

And Even Disappears Before My Eyes.

Often It Will Have A Whim,

To Hit A Tree Or Take A Swim.

 

With Miles Of Grass On Which To Land,

It Finds A Tiny Patch Of Sand.

Then Has Me Offering Up My Soul,

If Only It Would Find The Hole.

 

It's Made Me Whimper Like A Pup,

And Swear That I Will Give It Up.

And Take To Drink To Ease My Sorrow,

But The Ball Knows ... I'll Be Back Tomorrow.

 

Stand proud you noble swingers of clubs and losers of  balls .  A recent study found the average golfer walks about 900 miles a year.  Another study found golfers drink, on  average, 22 gallons of alcohol a year.  That means, on average, golfers get about  41 miles to the gallon.  Kind of makes you proud.  I Almost feel like a hybrid.

 

[fozcycle]

Thanks Tony, that was refreshing.


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[STUDque]

Might wanna take a look at the formatting Tony

 

 

[Steve2100]

Saw title and thought it said golf porn! Oh well


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