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This was a poem written to celebrate a summer spent with friends on a golf course.

Twas the night before golfing,

And all through the town,

The Travis Team was preparing

For their first golfing round.

They pulled out their bags,

Some even had carts.

And they filled them with things…

Those official golf parts.

The irons and the woods,

A ball and a tee,

The idea of golfing

Gave them such glee.

Eager to sleep,

They crawled into their beds,

And visions of tee-offs,

Fogged up their heads.

And then the next day,

They awoke from their sleep,

And scheduled their hours.

A 5 o’clock tee-off to keep.

Away to th Birch Hills,

They flew like a flash.

Their arrival that day,

Was less than a smash.

The golf course was busy,

The team made it worse.

They cheered and they shouted,

Some old golfers did curse.

And when Travis teed off,

Those old golfers, it’s said,

Watched the hooks and the slices,

Then exclaimed…”Wish we were dead”.

But the team would not cry,

They would never give up.

Someone was bound,

To get that ball in the cup.

So good ole Judy got up,

At the crack of the day,

To call for a tee-time,

It was always that way.

The team came back every week,

Few ever did roam,

This golf course was starting,

To feel just like home.

When what to their wondering

Eyes did appear,

But Marshall in hs cart,

And his rule book in gear.

He said, “You broke this rule and that rule,

And that rule and this”.

How you’re playing this game,

Is really amiss”.

The team was quite shocked,

And a little offende.

So, to talk to Mike,

Judy was sended.

The team they were worried,

Would be golfing no more,

But Mike, he saved them.

He’s done that before.

Then it’s said that their game,

It really improved.

Maybe all of that fuss,

Got their swings in the groove.

Well, Marshall he visited,

Each time the gals played,

And honked when he left,

At the end of his days.

And except for the time,

Mike made Jude read the door,

They didn’t have problems,

Too much anymore.

Then the summer it ended,

No weekly golf for awhile,

But the team would remember,

Those days with a smile.

Some people treat life,

Like old golfers, I fear,

Instead of giggles and cheering,

They meet life with a sneer.

But teachers know better,

Than anyone will,

You need laughs and encouragement,

To improve a skill.

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