Ode to a Golf Ball in Ireland!

Details: Created: 13 June 2017

Ahhhh...the joys of playing something called "golf" in Ireland inspired the following ode after two friends and I lost approximately three dozen golf balls in four rounds of golf! With deep apologies to great Irish poets like Yeats, Heaney, Joyce and others...

Ode to a Golf Ball in Ireland

Chuck Cascio

You were good to me

This is true

We played together elsewhere.

You landed on flat grounds

I found you in the woods

You buried yourself in sand

You wound your way home

I bathed you clean and watched you gleam.

But now, my trusted friend,

As I place you on your throne

Ireland's cruel winds howl

The ocean laughs

And tiny raindrops splatter my face

Though the sun shines and

A canyon looms below,

Housing creatures that mock our effort,

And countless traps of sand surround our hoped-for destination,

We know the cruel fate that does await...

I will swing

You will fly

I will curse

You will curve

I will sigh

You will disappear

Drowned

Eaten

Lost

So I say to you, dear friend,

Thank you for your service

Your friendship

Your dimpled presence.

You will be missed

And now, go meet your destiny

One shared by thousands of other balls

Buried in the cemeteries Ireland calls golf courses.