Golf


Golf is such a holy game,
For men with little balls.
Who often take the holy name,
With other uncouth calls.

They walk around with club in hand,
Just like their stone-age brothers.
And when their shot lands in the sand,
They could be disowned by their mothers.

If they sink a shot with five or more,
You'd think their cat was dead.
But if you hear them shouting "FORE!"
You'd better duck your head.

Those eighteen holes cause such commotion,
That when they reach the final tee.
Those small balled men have just one notion,
"To the nineteenth for a G and T!"
THIS IS A SAMPLE POEM FROM Tony Dawson's BOOK

    
A to Z of Comical Poems and Jokes
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A to Z of Comical Poems and Jokes.
These are the subjects of 52 fun filled pages of jokes and original poems from Tony Dawson

Auctions          Bookmakers          Computers          Diets              Euro          Fashion

Golf                 Hypnosis               Insomnia           Journalists     Karaoke      Lotteries

Museums          Noses                    Ouija                Proverbs        Questions    Referees

Secrets             Taxi                       Undertakers       Violins            Waiters       Xmas

                                           Yawning             Zodiac               
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