Best Golf Poems


Premium Member Golf Footle

The grass
alas
is shorn
like corn
the dew
eschews
forlorn
this morn

the crowd
avowed
the ball
and all
then groans 
and moans
clubs thrown
are known.

Embued
and hued
the words
like swords
wrong swing
the sting
bad lie
too high

the squeeze
on knees
in pleas?
to seize
the gold
and hold
glory
story

though droll
their goal 
control
cajole
that ball
to fall
or roll
in hole

August 22,2022
For Brian Strand's Premiere Choice Contest
FIRST PLACE TROPhy!
POEM OF THE WEEK!
© Ann Peck  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Golf Lesson

Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”

He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.

Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.

These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”

“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”

His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and play the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.

I Really Am a Golfer

I really am a golfer 
And let me tell you why
Its only when I swing a club
I really feel alive

I really am a golfer 
And take my driver out 
I swing my club and hit the ball
As hard and I have might

I really and a golfer
My ball is in the rough 
I swing my metal 3 real hard
To find the grass is tuff

I really am a golfer
My ball goes 50 ft.
It’s out the rough and in the sand
And buried very deep

I really am a golfer 
I take my sand wedge out
I open up the face of it 
And swing it with a clout

I really am a golfer
My ball is on the green
I swing the putter in an arc 
 With boggy on the seen

I really am a Golfer
My put goes 10ft past
I’m looking at a double 
But the Green is just too fast

I really am a golfer 
The balls beside the cup
I make it in the center
And my friends they call it luck


Premium Member A Golf Limerick

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!

This Game of Golf

This game of golf as is this life, 
Played all life, perfect still can't be, 
Ever reminding of one’s wife, 
Put on pedestal, upon tee, 
Handicaps, roughs, bogies stay rife, 
And played as if on edge of knife! 

Easy to start, hard to finish, 
And harder ever to master, 
Followed like an unfulfilled wish, 
Always one stroke from disaster, 
As in life, handicaps bridge gap, 
Eagles two, birdies claim one clap. 

What rage be this game every age, 
As many highs as there be lows, 
A game ever on players grows, 
Ageless be this sport in image—
To my liking a bit high brow, 
Pricey clubs, carts, caddies in tow. 

And if ye think you the ball drive, 
Beware of game that drives you naïve, 
This game of greens, good to relax, 
Greener still goes envied player, 
And greatest of a leveller, 
Pro or novice likes it like sex. 

_____________________________________________
   Reflections | 01.10.04 |

Golfing

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
© Vic Pister  Create an image from this poem.


"golf Ball"

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.

Tiger Tale

Walking my tiger home alone
In the background and unknown
With a rag I polish a club
Then you take it with a snub

I walk around keeping stats
Wet my finger for wind on flats
Calculate yards from here to there
So dimpled ball will stay in the air

As fast as you behind I lag
The difference is I carry your bag
All in white in bright coveralls
Marking the spot to place your balls

On the green is usually where
Sometimes you don't I won't go there
Have no problem choosing the club
Throwing it back an uneasy rub

I go the distance for eighteen
Making sure you make the green
Many tournaments you have won
Some are due to the work I've done

Raise the cup enjoy the win
I can take it on the chin
Beside you like some garden gnome
Here I'm walking my Tiger home

You Know

You Know

By Elton Camp

The conversation has only begun
When I realize it is with a moron.
On every thought he does bestow
The foolish phrase, “You know.”

Just how could I possibly know
Until he proceeds to tell me so.
“I really like sports, you know.
They just put my heart aglow.”

“I met Joe Montana two years ago.
It was just such a thrill, you know.”
How could I know just how he felt
When with his idol he had dealt.

“I like baseball pitches, fast or slow.
That’s the throwing speed, you know”
To learn that I simply couldn’t wait.
On word meaning he kept me straight.

Then golf he includes among the rest.
I learn that it is the sport he likes best.
“I just love to hear Tiger Woods crow.
In playing golf he’s the best, you know.”

His praise of sports continues to flow.
About all he may say, he thinks I know.
“Once, to the World Series, I got to go.
And there I had so much fun, you know.”

For sports tickets, I spend lots of dough,
But it’s well worth it to me, you know.”
I wonder if it is well-spent to his wife.
And how about the children in his life.

Into all of his chat, he continues to throw
His favorite phrase, one that I do know.
“Well, I guess that it’s time for me to go.
It’s been great meeting you, you know.”
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.

A Cup Full of Joy

What a great day for golf in the middle of Fall,
feeling quite chipper I drew a smile on my ball.
My confidence rose as I stepped to the tee,
while I stared down the flag on this gorgeous par three.

I swung back the club that I held in my hands
and prayed that my ball on the green softly lands.
As the white orb pierced the blue Autumn sky,
I soon lost my sight with the sun in my eyes.

I strolled to the green with trusty putter in tow,
but no ball in sight. Where did it go?
I searched in the rough and the bunker of sand,
with extreme disappointment and useless putter in hand.

As my search would yield nothing, I was about to give up.
When a small voice whispered, "Just look in the cup."
Could it be that my little friend found his way in the hole?
Who would believe it? Not one living soul.

So I walked to the flag on this dreadful par three
and I smiled at a ball that was smiling at me.



To whom it may concern this poem is pure fiction.



11/23/20

Plunk Flunk

Trump went to the golf course today 
But nobody wanted to play
When someone yelled, "Fore!"
Trump thought they yelled, "Whore!"
And proudly stood in the ball's way

Golf Love

Play life together
Trust faith and putt your ball true ~
    The hole will widen.
© Ken Rone  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Attention -- Golfers and Voters

    For a secret ballot forever 

       Keep your mouth tightly shut    

          ~ just like when you three-putt

Premium Member Cats and Summer

like twins they indeed do become

warm, sleepy, peaceful bodkins

in God's universe, love and the sun



8/3/2019
8pm PST

Premium Member You Just Can't Win

    Another loss for my favorite team
       The season just isn’t picking up steam
    First it’s poor defense, then listless offense
       Sloppy fundamentals make us fans scream

    I don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel
       or a pot of gold at rainbow’s edge
    So I think I’ll go golfing at an easy par-three ~
       Just hit three balls in the lake with my old trusty wedge

Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry

Member Area

My Admin
Profile and Settings
Edit My Poems
Edit My Quotes
Edit My Short Stories
Edit My Articles
My Comments Inboxes
My Comments Outboxes
Soup Mail
Poetry Contests
Contest Results/Status
Followers
Poems of Poets I Follow
Friend Builder

Soup Social

Poetry Forum
New/Upcoming Features
The Wall
Soup Facebook Page
Who is Online
Link to Us

Member Poems

Poems - Top 100 New
Poems - Top 100 All-Time
Poems - Best
Poems - by Topic
Poems - New (All)
Poems - New (PM)
Poems - New by Poet
Poems - Read
Poems - Unread

Member Poets

Poets - Best New
Poets - New
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems
Poets - Top 100 Most Poems Recent
Poets - Top 100 Community
Poets - Top 100 Contest

Famous Poems

Famous Poems - African American
Famous Poems - Best
Famous Poems - Classical
Famous Poems - English
Famous Poems - Haiku
Famous Poems - Love
Famous Poems - Short
Famous Poems - Top 100

Famous Poets

Famous Poets - Living
Famous Poets - Most Popular
Famous Poets - Top 100
Famous Poets - Best
Famous Poets - Women
Famous Poets - African American
Famous Poets - Beat
Famous Poets - Cinquain
Famous Poets - Classical
Famous Poets - English
Famous Poets - Haiku
Famous Poets - Hindi
Famous Poets - Jewish
Famous Poets - Love
Famous Poets - Metaphysical
Famous Poets - Modern
Famous Poets - Punjabi
Famous Poets - Romantic
Famous Poets - Spanish
Famous Poets - Suicidal
Famous Poets - Urdu
Famous Poets - War

Poetry Resources

Anagrams
Bible
Book Store
Character Counter
Cliché Finder
Poetry Clichés
Common Words
Copyright Information
Grammar
Grammar Checker
Homonym
Homophones
How to Write a Poem
Lyrics
Love Poem Generator
New Poetic Forms
Plagiarism Checker
Poetry Art
Publishing
Random Word Generator
Spell Checker
What is Good Poetry?
Word Counter