Best Putter Poems
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
Categories:
putter, fun, games, golf,
Form:
Limerick
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
Categories:
putter, golf, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
When I grow old
My body not yet cold
But the brown of my eyes
Turns to gray
I will wear a large hat
When I patrol through
My garden and keep the
Weeds at bay
I’ll have big pots of this
And of course lots of that
On the stove for when
Company drops in
The food will comfort
The gossip will start
And more time with me they will spend
I won’t have cats
Because ewww they are cats
But be careful to step over the dogs
Their stomachs so full
I’m sure they won’t move
They’ll be passed out
And sleeping like logs
I’ll pretend I can’t hear
And my whispers will be loud
So loud to be heard throughout the room
Then I’ll whisper about people
The arrogant sort
And the ones I believe are bafoons
All the kids will love me
Because of what I keep hidden
To my bedroom they will often stray
Lemon drops and butterscotch will always be there
Hidden quite snuggly away
Oh let me be known as the lady of prayer
And the one that loves her Lord so
A relationship that started moons ago
And turned into
An eternal love affair
I’ll putter and piddle with things I find useful
I may learn to knit if I please
I’ll knit a blue scarf the bluest of blues
So on my motorcycle it will fly in the
b e z
r e ~
e ~ ~
~ ~ ~
~
Categories:
putter, funnylove, me,
Form:
Free verse
My first car is starting to smell old
Like my grandparents house that they no longer live in
Reminds me of an antique store
With trinkets and wooden and things I’ve never seen
It smells of a jacket
In the back of the closet
That no longer fits
My first car took me anywhere
When anywhere seemed like so much
It took me to games and stores and houses and places I shouldn’t have been
But it always got me out
My subtle savior I never remembered to thank
My first car was old a decade ago
It was rusted and I never heard the end of the jokes
But it was mine.
Mine in a way a lot of things never have been
Mine like a name
Like a part of myself
Of my past
Of my shame
My first car doesn’t run
It doesn’t putter and shutter like it used to
And I can’t curse it anymore
When it doesn’t turn on
It died before I could say goodbye
When I thought we had more time
Seems like an old friend maybe
That just won’t text back
Seems like a dumb silly promise
Like maybe it will whine at me again
If I turn the key
But it doesn’t
And it won’t
Categories:
putter, car, high school, innocence,
Form:
Free verse
Be A Better Putter
Was with naughty iron that is a nine,
Which some say has become benign,
That balls seemed slow as molasses;
Did need to take a few more classes.
From whole golf course would be cut;
Had played never learning how to putt,
Should see each scratchy terrible scar,
That was received for not making par.
Received setback and a major mishap,
Ball again did end up in a sand trap,
And occurred a complete catastrophe;
Drove my ball hard from tee into a tree.
To avoid all trash along with the clutter,
Wanted to try and buy a better putter;
From terrible putts ended up insane;
On course my golf bag does remain.
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems_poets/best/33466/james_horn
Categories:
putter, allegory, analogy, golf,
Form:
Couplet
Golf Putter That Did Sputter
Have naughty eight iron and a nine
That are starting to become benign;
My small balls were slow as molasses;
Did decide to take a couple of classes.
From whole, entire course soon got cut
Because I never learned how to putt,
And should have seen the horrible scar
When they beat me for not making par.
Then golf game suffered a major mishap
Balls ended up being in smooth sand trap;
Was an incredible, complete catastrophe
Had hit ball hard from tee into a tree.
Wanted to replace old one which did sputter,
But I never could find another better putter;
On course, well-cared dead corpse remains;
All those terrible drives drove them insane.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
River Sea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Categories:
putter, golf, humorous,
Form:
Couplet
The player inside
As one stands on the first tee
a straightforward start with pumping heart
should be easy enough for me he he
with an arch of the back
a thundering crack
a look from my eye up through the sky
looking for my ball to see
an iron I take for my second
and again look after my ball so keen
then with a skip and a thud it ends up on the green
glove off putter in hand I line up with the hole
with a positive roll it rolls into my goal
1 under par a birdie so rare
Is today the day I wonder
then all hopes are dashed when my next drive hits a tree
after many a shout and searching about
my round of promise some hours ago has gone as all before
but I will be back with new balls to whack
to the game that I adore
MB 2013
Categories:
putter, golf,
Form:
The best love affair of my life
Was the time I spent with another man’s wife
You would be surprised to know it
For I never involved in flirting – never a bit
She isn’t my aunt , my sister , or my cousin
She isn’t all those pestering neighboury mausin
Or the ladies and sissies who are such a bother
She is my mother
I can say that she is a pure form of gold
Who held my hand for success till I became smartfully bold
She is the one who taught me to be brave
And asked me to pass through the door opportunities pave
She explained me to make my feminist wings to flutter
And made me to be like the united bread and butter
She warned me to never be the quitter
Hence I promised to be the silent shot putter
She is the six letter word
Who encouraged me with the ideals of life – the true sword
She was the one whom I first saw when I was born
And she was the face who smiled at mine when I cried like the musical gigs ****
Her pallu saved me from all kind of fears
Her soft glowing touch wiped off my tears
Her lap was the ideal place and was softer than cushions
Her shoulders were the warmest place than the lab of atomic fusions
Her sparkling eye spoke to me of the sun
Her sweet milk feeding spoke to me of the coconut bun
Her wise teachings were clear and wide like the big blue sky
Her cute angry face had sometimes made me to cry
Her single touch cured me of my wails and pains
Her lovely kiss showered me with honey rains
My heart had mingled with hers
And made me to write some of my kind letters
I can never end in a break-up
For she is my great boost up
I am forever debted to this great human
Who is just similar to the super human
I had a lovely ten month relationship with this lady
I will never be able to forget her who made me a successful caddie
As far as I can say she is an angel sent by god to the earth
Who made my life indeed worth
Respect your mom
For she is more than a beautiful farm
She is the true sculpture of love
And also the reflection of WOW
Categories:
putter, love, mom, mother, mothers
Form:
Light Verse
A post from the past.....just trying to put down all the ones I have written but deleted when I left the site for a while......this is almost too long, but I couldn't find which animal or insect to eliminate.....
Gardens attract a number of guests,
Some are welcomed, some are pests-
Let’s peek inside to get a view,
Of what these guests are really up to-
Honey bees pollinate, wasps sting,
Mosquitoes suck, song birds sing-
Crickets chirp, caterpillars putter,
Grasshoppers jump, butterflies flutter-
Aphids cluster, ladybugs twirl,
Katydids hop, pill bugs curl-
Owls hoot, peacocks prance,
Fruit ripens, damselflies dance-
Leaves sprout, dragonflies catch,
Shrubs grow, chipmunks fetch-
Trees shade, breezes blow,
Blossoms bloom, fireflies glow-
Moths destroy, hummingbirds drink,
Earthworms chew, stinkbugs stink-
Ants march, slugs cleave,
Turtles saunter, spiders weave-
Fish swim, lizards climb,
Toads croak, snails slime-
Fleas vault, frogs leap,
Roaches scatter, millipedes creep-
Hawks soar, rabbits munch,
Snakes slither, beetles crunch-
Mites bite, moles scurry,
Walking sticks cling, termites hurry-
Mice dart, ferrets burrow,
Hedgehogs mosey, voles furrow-
Gophers tunnel, thrips rasp,
Foxes chase, grubs clasp-
Possums play dead, fruit bats roost,
Water bugs float, pirate bugs juice-
Woodchucks eat, rats devour,
Squirrels store, seedlings flower-
Gnats annoy, spittlebugs attack,
Ambush bugs take, cicadas extract-
Scaly bugs secrete, squash bugs infect,
Silkworms spin. lightning bugs inject-
Armadillos dig, water scorpions fight,
Woodborers drill, fruit flies alight-
Root maggots scarf, locusts smother,
Harlequin bugs feast, flower flies hover-
Deer nibble, cats meow,
Mealy bugs attach, dogs howl-
Antlions trap, leaf-footed bugs pierce,
Robber flies rob and hornets are fierce-
Nematodes battle, leafhoppers invade,
Cutworms clip, leafminers raid-
Psyllids drain, cabbage loopers inch,
Weevils infest, earwigs pinch-
Vines extend, doodlebugs grab,
Woodpeckers peck, assassin bugs stab-
Raccoons forage, geese parade,
Praying Mantises capture, falls cascade-
Skunks spray, branches sway,
Upon your plants an insect may lay-
Harvestmen walk, lacewings feed,
Some of these guests your garden needs!
Categories:
putter, animal, earth, education, kids,
Form:
Rhyme
The was a young golfer whose mother
Constantly around him would flutter.
All over each green,
Her antics were seen,
Until he thumped her with his putter!
2 April 2013.
Categories:
putter, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
They all heard him say in Calcutta,
addressing the ball, with his putter,
"Before we begin,
I'd quite like to win,
so please, pop it in," he would mutter.
~
For Craig's 'Golf Limerick' Competition.
Categories:
putter, sports,
Form:
Limerick
A Welsh New Year
The night's dark shadow
creeps softly over the sky.
Dark, soft fingers pull slowly at the light,
fully engulfing it into it's dark mass.
The wind whips off the sea.
Snatching and releasing,
pushing and pulling.
Rough and unforgiving.
Wild as our hearts,
beating quickly in the night.
The wooden walls groan in around us.
A ship,
forever docked,
deeply into the cliff.
A yearning spirit hides in anticipation
behind each eye,
quivering in excitement and childish glee.
When finally,
one scuttling figure jumps from the couch
and out the door.
We chase him,
fleeting feet and unruly rain jackets,
across the courtyard and towards the wild sea.
The wind's intensity grows with the seconds.
We stop,
finally,
when we reach the light.
It flashes,
giant and glowing.
The sea roars far below us
and the wind thrashes and screams in our ears.
I feel as if it could lift me off my feet
and carry it as far as it pleased.
Clinging tightly to whoever is closest,
we stand in silent awe.
But it only last one flickering moment,
before we're dashing back
to the warm safety of the indoors.
But when the morning comes,
and all putter around the kitchen,
little fragments of the night still remain.
A crumpled flag of the living room floor.
Muddy shoes scattered
on the cold entranceway.
The quick sprawled footprints in the sand.
And a lone wine-glass of water,
on a disheveled bedside table.
Gentle smiles pass through the house,
and the steady sea beats rhythmically on.
related link:
http://thearyan.com/category/poem/
Categories:
putter, nice, pain, pashto, pets,
Form:
ABC
bouncing balls settle
pulling out my putter club
i wonder the game
Categories:
putter, art,
Form:
Haiku
Brassie For A Lassie
Was great at Golf when she played;
In two drives ball on green than laid;
Was done by a good looking lassie;
Instead of putter she used a brassie;
Took one putt and hole was made.
Sounds like a great game to me.
Jim Horn
Categories:
putter, allegory, analogy, golf,
Form:
Limerick
Putter set adroit
Two wiggles to line it up
Ball slips by, Yips!
Categories:
putter, golf,
Form:
Senryu