I got up early Sunday morning, wondering what to do,

The wind had dropped, the air was still, the grass awash with dew;

And an idea formed in this brain of mine, bubbling up from the source,

A great idea on a perfect day: a round at the Meeniyan course.   

I blew the dust from the old golf clubs, and hurried on out to the car,

On top of the world I travelled the road, Meeniyan wasn't too far;

I flew past Yanakie, still asleep, and tore past the Black Swamp Track,

Fish Creek dozed as I hurried on through, the sun coming up at my back.

Then out on the course, with the grass so green, I teed off with nary a care,

And watched as my ball sailed off down the hill and into the bunker there.

I hacked and I swung as the day passed by, as I fumbled from fairway to green,

At the eighth I near cried after losing my ball in the biggest lake I've ever seen.

But worse was to come, and I wish that I'd quit, I fumed and I prayed and I cursed,

I teed from the tenth with a beautiful slice and ended up back on the first!

The twelfth was a ripper, I got to the green with a drive that was lovely to see,

Then it took me six putts and my Ping putter died as I smashed it in half on my knee.

At the fourteenth my chance of an ace was real good, but just as my swing reached its peak,

Some fool with a tractor roared past the course and my ball ended up in the creek.

I got to the last, all tattered and torn and I hoped it would all soon be over,

But I shanked at the green and broke the windscreen of a shiny new V8 Land Rover.

And so I drove home, feeling sorry and sad,

I can't go to Meeniyan next week -

I ain't got no clubs, they're still at the course

Under three feet of mud - in the creek!

more of my FUNNY POEMS here