Eye of the Tiger
He brandished a nine iron, went chipping away
The course was so green, the air was so warm
The boy had dreams of being the best one day
Out on the course, each day, working on form
No stopping when tired, had known how to work
But, enjoyed the game so much, it wasn’t a chore
He labored for fun with his goal to be great
He knew what he wanted, each day wanting more
For each different hole, he selected with care
A wood or an iron, a chip or full swing
He honed well his skills to compete with the best
He’d never have guessed what fame it would bring
Copyright © Michael Degenhardt | Year Posted 2008
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