Love Poems About Golf or Golf Love Poems

Golf love poems and/or love poems about Golf. Read, share, and enjoy these Golf love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by Dennis East |
Categories: crush, emotions, fantasy, fun, golf, i love you, sensual,

SPIDERS we can beat them

Have you crushed a spider lately - and left it in a pile,
And thought that you could leave it there - and go back in a while?
Then, on returning to the spot - to get it with a tissue,
And if like me – you found it GONE - we've really got an issue.

Could they be getting stronger - as I pressed with all my weight,
And it looks just liked I’d crushed it - but if acting, it was great.
It looked the part, except for blood - no screaming in my ear,
But laid there waiting patiently - for me to disappear.

I think the only thing that saves them - is the pattern on our shoe,
They’ve seen our souls have heavy treads - and know what to do.
For when our foot comes crushing down - they quickly form a shape,
That sees them safely in the gaps - and once more they escape.

It's either that, or they've evolved - into a stronger bug.
Who’ll one day soon, will grab your foot - and grip it in a hug.
They’ll lift you smartly in the air - and twirl you like a weed,
Then chuck you down the stair case - as they listen to you plead.

Then off to build a cobweb - that could catch a jumbo jet,
Or to trap a passing stallion - like it’s in a football net.
Or, is the answer to our prayers - to wear shoes flat and wide,
With smooth yet gripping bottoms - that leave nowhere left to hide.

So use your loaf and be prepared - and have a “crush rag” handy,
To squeeze them till you feel the pop - and make their legs go bandy
Though still the chance they’ve got real strong - so you should take some care,
Else, when you try to close your rag - they'll grab you by the hair.

Arghhhhh, I also bet they'll have a friend - who'll come out of the garden,
And you’ll have to bash them with a rock - make sure you choose a harden.
And finally, when home alone - best not to take a chance,
Be careful putting music on - I've heard, they frigging dance!!

© Dennis East


Poem Details | by Robert Candler |
Categories: addiction, angst, conflict, confusion, dedication, depression, desire, devotion, funny, games, golf, hope, humorous, journey, sad love, sports,

Flailin'

Flailin’,  flailin’, flailin’;
There goes my ball sailin’
Into a trap, the water or the woods.

Flailin’, flailin’, flailin’;
You can hear me wailin’,
“Why won’t that damn ball go where it should?

Drives go right Putts go wrong.
I shank my wedges or ‘skull’em’ long.
My golf game’s just no damn good.

I’m swingin’ too hard & lookin’ up;
As if I’ll actually see it go in the cup….
As if it ever really would.

My alignment’s too far left or right.
My ball can find the only tree or trap in sight,
Even if the shot starts out lookin’ good.

These days, I carry some special tools:
A handheld weed eater with extra spools
And a pruning saw, in case I’m in the woods 

I’ve even tried to ‘buy’ a better game.
No matter My scores were just as lame.
Those new clubs didn’t do what they should.

Bogies & doubles...even triples..are common scores.
I very rarely get pars any more.
Believe me, I’d change it if I could.

My buddies said it must be me,
A teaching pro I should go see.
They said he’d fix my game…..if anybody could.

The pro said, “Hit some balls while I watch you.
Just set up and hit’em like you normally do.
We’ll see if I can do your game any good.”

After the first bucket of balls I hit,
He calmly said, “Take two weeks off…then quit.
Take my advice You really should.”

Now, what really has me vexed,
I’m wondering what I’ll try next.
That pro’s advice was no damn good.

So, I struggle along with my flailin’ game;
But, strangely enough, have fun just the same,
Finding hope in rare shots that are actually good.


Poem Details | by jan oskar hansen |
Categories: friendship, funny love, giggle, golf, gospel,

a sonnet of love

A Sonnet 
If I knew you loved me, I would have
killed you before,   a sentence that makes no sense
keep swirling around my headWilliam Burroughs
could have said that or perhaps he has.
 I meet I woman once, not the first, and fell in love
with her, she was or could be my soulmate with her
I felt at ease not straining to be funny.
I was drawn into a black hole of love that could only 
end in hurts weighed down by my past.
So I ended it short, brutal but with sleepless nights 

I met another woman nothing about soulmates; she just 
needed a place to stay near her place of work.
That was a long time ago, and now we are two lost souls 
comforting each other in the midnight hours.


Poem Details | by James Horn |
Categories: encouraging, golf,

Can Love Golfing Game Haiku

Can Love Golfing Game Haiku

Golfing we will go
On great course that we all know
Will be fast not slow.

Game is never grim
Sand traps are a minimum
And other obstacles.

Broke a rule or two
To liven up my haiku
Bring it some justice.

According to all
Of my great calculations
Handicap is low.

Great golfers will be
And then maybe you and me
Can love our own game.

James Thomas Horn
But I am not a golfer.
Oh, dear.

Retired Veteran and Poet


Poem Details | by Barbara Gorelick |
Categories: funny, sports,

For The Love Of Golf


As poor Bob left  to play the short nine
His nagging old wife began to whine
"Its golf or its me!"
"With that I agree!"
His lawyer told her just where to sign....


3/28/13


Poem Details | by Robert Candler |
Categories: conflict, funny, golf, hilarious, husband, love, moving on, relationship, wife,

Just A Joke

A slight hint of consternation was in her voice,
“Why did you tell those people I’m deaf and dumb?”
“I never said you were deaf, my Dear.”
She laughed, but I felt like a bum.

Then, one evening, she asked, “Will you love me if I get chubby?”
I responded, “Of course I still love you.
It would take much more than pounds and cellulite
To make me fall out of love or be untrue.”

“Would you remarry if I die before you?” she asked.
I said, “No…probably not…I’ve been spoiled by you.”
“But you’ve been a great husbandI think you should.”
“Whatever happens, happens is the best I can do.”

“If you remarried, would you play golf with your new wife?
And would you let her use my clubs?” she demanded 
I calmly smiled and said, “Your clubs are safe.
You see, my Dear…she’s left handed.”