a load of balls

bertram thought his golfing skills
a cut above the rest -
last thursday he teed up and swung
like rambo in his vest

but what he struck had other plans
and curved off to the right -
last glimpse he got was just before it 
left his field of sight

blamed his club, of course he did,
and hurled it at his caddy -
luckily it missed and caught the
left ear of the baddie

(by whom I mean opponent, see,
a better player far) -
let's say that made our bertram's task
less tricky than before

bunker full of sand, poor chap,
a handy resting place -
let's cut to bertie on the green,
large grin upon his face

bereft of competition, now,
a burden off his back -
lets him pull and slice all day, yet
lead the chasing pack

but putting pleased him most because
a hundred hits still won -
losing games was so last year,
lost self-esteem so done

back in the clubhouse how he crowed
and boasted of his win -
last I heard they'd blackballed bert for
lapsing into sin

bad enough to off a bloke
and worse that he's a member -
look, worst of all, to claim a win after completely
losing count of a score you really can't quite remember

be this tale an awful warning,
always follow every rule
lest you're shunned by decent people -
little's worse than look a fool

image: GOLF.com

inspiration: ball from

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