Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!
Get Your Premium Membership

Yesterday

by
 I've trod the links with many a man,
And played him club for club;
'Tis scarce a year since I began
And I am still a dub.
But this I've noticed as we strayed Along the bunkered way, No one with me has ever played As he did yesterday.
It makes no difference what the drive, Together as we walk, Till we up to the ball arrive, I get the same old talk: "To-day there's something wrong with me, Just what I cannot say.
Would you believe I got a three For this hole--yesterday?" I see them top and slice a shot, And fail to follow through, And with their brassies plough the lot, The very way I do.
To six and seven their figures run, And then they sadly say: "I neither dubbed nor foozled one When I played--yesterday!" I have no yesterdays to count, No good work to recall; Each morning sees hope proudly mount, Each evening sees it fall.
And in the locker room at night, When men discuss their play, I hear them and I wish I might Have seen them--yesterday.
Oh, dear old yesterday! What store Of joys for men you hold! I'm sure there is no day that's more Remembered or extolled.
I'm off my task myself a bit, My mind has run astray; I think, perhaps, I should have writ These verses--yesterday.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - YesterdayEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...


Top Edgar Albert Guest Poems

Analysis and Comments on Yesterday

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Yesterday here.