Ode to the Fanatical Golfer by Kevin D. Rolle - HTML preview

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Hostile Crowd

He’d stay the course, (ever the trooper)
Even though his golf game seemed fit for the s_w_r! His approach to the ball needed work…his aim must be ‘truer’
”Dump that old swing!…It MUST be ‘newer’!

”Take it to a level above a wild swing”
The ball agreed, hitting a metal post…”PING!” The echo of that sound, loud and clear, would ring The jokes of bystanders, continued to sting.

The sun didn’t help…continued to roast.
Both he and his golf game appeared to be toast! The biting insects saw him as their ‘host’
The golf cart served dual purpose…scratching post!

The people were brutal…continued to tease.
His fragile esteem, they cared not to please.
They’d do this to a sick man who huffed and weezed ”Wish they’d leave me alone…Wish time would freeze!”

”Never-the-less, the insults still ‘hailed’ Their comments about him, continued to rail! If he had one now, he’d tuck his ‘tail’ ”For this abuse, they should be in jail!!