magpie
Found this cute little Poem in the paper the other day. Thought I'd share it.
ODE TO A GOLF BALL
In my hand I hold a ball, white and dimpled, rather small.
Oh how bland it does appear, this harmless looking little shpere.
By its size I could not guess, the awesome strength it does possess.
Since I fell beneath its spell, I've wandered through the fires of hell.
My life has not been quite the same, since I chose to play this stupid game.
It's made me swear and yell and cry. I hate myself and want to die.
To master such a tiny ball, should not be very hard at all.
But my desires the ball refuses. It does exactly what it chooses.
It hooks and slices, dribbles and dies. It even disappears before my eyes.
Often it will take a whim, to hit a tree or take a swim.
With miles of grass on which to land, it always finds a patch of sand.
I'd offer up my very soul, if only it would find the hole.
It's made me whimper like a pup. I swear that I will give it up.
I'd have a drink to ease my sorrow. But the ball knows I'll be back tomorrow.
