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

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Attached At The Hip

Golf fanatics play this game to the hilt.
He did a course in Scotland (where he wore a kilt!) But that’s nothing. (You should have seen him on stilts!)
Nothing ever made his persistence wilt!

Golf was taking over his life. (He was fully aware). Not that it mattered to him. (He didn’t care !) It was a part of him now. (“All in his hair’)
Healthy or morbid obsession..(Could he separate ‘wheat from tare’?)

The golf course was his passion. (Where he loved to tread)
When closed for repairs, he’d always see ‘red’! Others counted sheep. (But golf clubs danced in his head) He couldn’t turn from the sport. (It was now ‘lead’!)

He was in love with this sport. (Had so much pride!) He hovered across the green course, (Seemed to glide!) Like he rode an ocean wave. (Came in on the tide) He put on a show for others. (Did not hide).

He and golf, made quite a pair
There are millions more like him. (Not at all rare). If not on the course, his clubs he had to be near This attracted funny looks. People tended to stare!