While a man was golfing in Fife
a funeral cortege was arife,
his head bowed in prayer
at this somber affair
to pay last respects to his wife!
A Better Putter
I have an iron which is a nine
Which some say has become benign;
Balls have been slow as molasses
So I had to take a couple of classes.
From the whole course I got cut
Because I never learned how to put.
And you should see the terrible scar
When they beat me for not making par.
All my balls were up against the wall
Until I saw a great, gorgeous gal;
Should we play around for a while;
She sure had guessed my golfing style.
To avoid all of the trash and clutter
I then tried to buy a better putter
But on course dead body does remain;
All my drives had driven them insane.
Was out playing golf just for fun
With Father O’Toole in the sun
When club from hand burst
Hit priest as he cursed
And I hit his first holy one
He excitedly grabbed his bag of clubs,
He drove to the course that day.
He had no qualms about not going to work
He merely wanted to play.
He briskly walked to tee number one,
He smartly teed the ball.
He swung his driver with gusto immense
He never saw it off the tee fall.
After time he realized to his dismay
The ball lay right by the tee.
He never did completely understand
Why the ball did not speedily flee.
After quickly replacing the misplaced ball
He gave it a hearty blow.
He watched it slice off into the rough
Where he never intended it to go.
This first hole ended with strokes very high
It actually was only the first.
It made him soon begin to think
He probably should have better rehearsed.
In actuality he should have at work stayed
And completed those unfinished tasks.
He probably will this message convey
In case anyone ever asks.
I'm two inches wide,
and can drive a person
insane. I roll my own way
even slower in the rain. I am
always still when you need me
too. I spin and slice when not hit
right. I can hook and dive and go
out of sight. I can drop on a green
if the golf gods are there, or I can
land in the sand if they choose or
even care. See a golf ball is bad
and can make a man sad. But
for a hole in one, I would be
very happy and oh so glad.
There was a man from faraway lands.
He held a golf club in his right hand.
He said this to me.
What is that I see?
No club in your mitt, or ball to hit.
-For Contest Golf Limerick
You’re in Palm Springs, not much to do
But golf and get some sun
Hop on a cart, still almost dark
Get out and have some fun
Line up your shot, you’re feeling hot
You try hard not to push
But half the time, like you were blind
It ends up in the bush
You curse and swear like no one’s there
Dig up a chunk of dirt
You hit a house, feel like a louse
Thank God no one was hurt
You hack around, rip up the ground
The hole seems ’way too small
You miss your shot and swear a lot
This is no fun at all
Every shot’s worse than the last
No matter how you try
They don’t go where you want them
It makes you wanna cry
Your buddies laugh, you stand and chaff
You ask them what’s so funny
They grin and say, “Looks like today
You owe us lots of money”
Finally when you make a shot
You think you’re getting hotter
You rip the next shot long and hard
Straight into the water
Every shot makes someone smile
Somehow it’s never you
A foursome comes up from behind
Asks if they could play through
You shank and pull you slash and slice
You finally get around
The only part that you enjoy
Is when you’re homeward bound
You practice ‘til the sun goes down
Determined not to fail
The more you try the worse it gets
You just groove your slash and flail
Today I had a real good day
I’m happy as could be
Had lots of fun, me and my Hon
Stayed home and watched TV
Hyperbole is a spots cast
Announcers have egos so vast
My ears must have rest
From this lambasting pest
Collection of morons amassed
Author's note: Is it getting worse, or is it just me?
A strong passion of mine in recent years
is being on a golf fairway...
Its a place as other golfers would agree
is an escape from stress of every day...
Its definitely a whole new kind of stress
but a hand full of good shots brings smiles...
The friendships found, with either lawyers
or doctors even the bartender who hits it a mile...
We are all even on hole number one with jokes
and caddyshack quotes as one putts on the greens...
The passion for golf runs straight through my soul,
a good or bad day my smile still gleams...
Even if tired or worn out after a long day at work,
nothing stops me from making that four pm. tee time...
Either on a Myrtle beach well groomed course, or
public one with divots and a green you can't find..
There is no better place to be then standing in a tee
box with your driver in hand..
A full swing on beautiful blue sky day and hopefully seeing
where your ball will land...
"Passion Pit" contest by "Sweetheart of Poetry Soup" Linda...
triplets in rhyme
Just need two under par
I've mastered this shot
and my partners will lose.
One is my only son,
and a friend from college.
Fond memory's my muse.
Soar among the Eagles!
I'll let my soul sing,
their spirits to bolster.
I let loose measured stroke.
My eagle's in flight
soaring t'wards a bunker.