A Day at the Range

I love playing golf. I also despise it. This is a poem about the love/hate relationship I have with the game.

 

Birds chirp in the distance.

A breeze gently blows

As I adjust my grip.

 

                Woosh-TING

 

A ball rifles past.

The man beside me

Shields his brow as it sails.

 

I watch as it lands.

Awestruck at the distance

Amazed it went so straight.

 

                Woosh-TING

 

Another ball flies,

Hit with a perfect swing.

Stunned I watch it soar.

 

With a prayer and a wish

I whisper below,

“Please, just like his went.”

 

My fingers tighten

Around the firm shaft

Caressing the grip.

 

Smoothly it swings back.

Eyes on the dimples

My club thrusts forward.

 

                THUNK

 

…Man, I hate golf.

 

Reviews

[Big ol' Kahuna]

Great write. I love the ending, what a crack up. I think everyone who has ever tried to play the game of golf will be able to relate to this, except maybe Tiger. Almost everyone will be able to relate to the love hate relationship too.
Nice visuals leading up to it also.
The beauty of golf is one good shot keeps you coming back. All those junky ones get jumbled together and the good one stands out.
Nice work. Nice humor.

[Gheeneil]

I like the use of onomatopoeia. It adds intensity and life to the action. Thus, it keeps the thrill and excitement growing. I had fun reading this.

[Kelley]

LOL you are so funny girl and it was going so well.
I love /hate golf too.......smiles
Thanks for the laughter.

Kelley

[Bud]

Wow! This is so captivating...filling the mind with anticipation...then all of a sudden..." Man, I hate golf ".
Brilliant!!!!!!!! Wonderful piece with a nice touch of humor!