A Good Walk Spoiled

High above the blistering sun When the weekly walk turned not so fun. It started well, watching perfect flight Of dimpled orb as it flew from sight. It fell to earth on manicured green. A more perfect shot had not been seen. Only inches from the hole in ground Where an eagle surely should be found. The owner of this tremendous smash Opened mouth and started talking trash, Of amazing shots he’d made before And of the beating that was in store For the sorry trio that followed him. Then he stepped up to the ball and grinned. But the yips kicked in and spoiled his day Three taps later; the ball, still in play The silent smiles on his partners lips Were too much to take and made him flip. He threw his club and he cursed and swore, And stormed away to return no more. Now he claims to the game he’d once been loyal That golf is just a good walk spoiled!