Date posted: 23rd February 2021

I used to swing a golf club with, in truth, not much prowess,
I'd drive and chip then three putt, as I also lacked finesse,
I'd hook and slice and thin and fat and even sometimes shank,
While others would break 80 I habitually stank,
I used to think I'd crack it with lessons and new tech,
But in every comp I'd man the decks of another fresh shipwreck,
I've walked the plank towards quitting but never got that far,
Dragged back by dreams of 40 points and some day breaking par,
It took a damn pandemic to put the clubs in store,
And now I'd kill for just nine holes, no matter what the score,
For at long last I've learned the scorecard didn't mean a thing,
It was those who joined the battle that made me feel a king,
Friends who walked the rough together and shared their own disgraces,
Jokers at this stupid game, but in life itself all aces,
These days the course lies empty, on the fairways not a soul,
All drink now consumed at home in the Covid 19th hole,
Golf itself will rise again to drive us all insane,
But never let it break you for it's just a bloody game,
We may never groove a downswing or control the curs-ed ball,
But it's the four hours spent with friends that is the greatest gift of all.

Anon