Placing ball upon the tee,
proceeding then to tutor me
in suitable technique for game
in which Jack Nicholas earned his fame.
I swing my club to try to meet
that little ball … then I repeat.
Now, after several tries at this,
(at least, as Dad does reminisce)
and waiving other golfers through,
my father finally got a clue:
I’m not athletically inclined.
But, thankfully, he didn’t mind.
My lack of club and golf ball junction
seems to make each social function
livelier with hoots and cackles …
Think I’ll stick with rods and tackles.