April 4, 2006

A poem about "The Masters"

Since this weekend is THE weekend as far as my husband is concerned, I thought I'd share this with you. I wrote this in 1993 out of boredom while my husband was watching The Masters. Of course that was "BK" (before kids) when he could actually do such things. Luckily for him though, the boys and I are heading out of town this weekend (perfect timing as far as I'm concerned). So... no need to call, email or stop by because he'll be totally absorbed in all things green!

    "The Masters"

    I get out of my cart
    and address the tee,
    I gaze down the fairway
    and no one do I see.

    My caddy hands me my club
    and tells me to watch for the bunker.
    He forgets I'm a scratch golfer,
    not some old clunker.

    The dog leg is tough,
    but I'm going for the eagle.
    This time I'm going to
    do it absolutely legal.

    As the divot flies
    high in the air,
    I keep my cool and
    at the ball I stare.

    I can see it's a hook
    as it goes to the left.
    Just over the pond,
    but not a bit wet.

    As I give the warning
    and call out “fore,”
    It lands in the rough.
    I can see it no more.

    I make my approach shot
    and hope for the best.
    Right on the green
    it comes to rest.

    He hands me my putter
    and speaks not a word.
    The course is silent
    except for a bird.

    I step up to the ball
    with the greatest of ease,
    Hoping no one can
    see my stomach quease.

    I sink my spikes
    into the ground,
    For I know this is
    the very last round.

    After I putt the ball
    time seems to stop.
    It rolls so slowly,
    I'm about to pop.

    At long last
    the birdie is mine.
    I'm walking tall
    and feeling fine.

    As the crowd starts to clap
    and give me a hand,
    Jack Nicklaus gives me
    my hundred grand.

    When the bright green blazer
    is being present to me,
    Reality sets in……..
    I'm awoke by a bee.

    © 1993 Shane Hawk


  1. I don't know anything about golf, but I wanted to say that I stumbled across your blog and have enjoyed reading it. I am from WV, I lived in Morgantown as well for a while.

  2. Cute poem I gotta show that to my husband he is caddy at the Augusta National.


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