Almanac Poetry: Golf 1

 

 

What is god, if not a golf ball in flight
lofting into the blue sky like it should
running true, straight on, out of sight

 

Jesus then is a forgiving wood
come down from the nailing cross we made
blessing us with double shots of good

 

The holy spirit waits in golf blade
to turn a savage hook to a draw
a rabid slice to gentle fade

 

But what is golf? What is it for?
It’s for dapper chaps to adore

 

 

More from Michael Pardy Here.

 

 

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Comments

  1. Very good. Why do I keep hearing Elvis singing “Devil in Disguise” when I play?

  2. Haha. Good one Peter. I’m hearing you. It’s still early days for me… I thought I’d never play again (back issues), but it seems to be manageable.

  3. Well, life is full of surprises M. Pardy. I was wondering what sort of verse this might be as I waited for the Barossa’s wifi to do its thing and open the link. Epic? Haiku? An ode? A ballad full of lament?

    What a thought-provoking poem. But, then again, I think golf defies physics. It’s where rationality meets mysticism. It is proof of the existence of God. I mean: consider the concept of the hole-in-one. When that’s what you’ve set out to do. It’s more than probability.

  4. Thanks John. As they say, “there’s a lot you can learn about golf… from life”.

  5. Like a magnificent drive on the first at Portsea, a brilliantly-executed poem, Michael.

  6. Very good, Pards.

    But you do know that you are spoiling a good walk?

  7. Daryl Schramm says

    Dapper, and not so dapper, where I play. Looking forward to reading about you golfing redevelopment.

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