Little Hole

Methinks, who wanders after pint size toy To which Aristocrats bow in humbleness? Afore the little toy went to dance with the rough, Off the tee in bounces, unto the way unfair, Wrong way, or off the fair fairway, Thought hazard but out of bound! Grudgingly he bowed for a retake, Now to the little toy the mighty was humbled. Pint size, mint size, bright white, Toys in colour bundles. Fly it goes in kiss with the sky  Little toy, little joy laced in greedy-burden. Amidst the Aristos stood the landlord, well-trodden, Yes, the Capo whose toy ran him out of bound, Silly toy, bad troy, “O, not my day!” He mused. His baroness hummed, bumped her bum in bummer, Pitiable they were before the bunker. “Handicap will tell.” She said in laughter. But the Aristos were called handicaps too, Laughed I was at these “Handicaps” As they missed the little hole in taps. Hopped the Aristo to win the hole; Warped the baroness in prayer he missed the hole, The little hole, pint size toy. With smiles, his toy, she glanced, The Aristo did miss the hole. I laughed at the people of holes. Hmm! Life with Golfers and little holes.