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Funeral Poems For A Golfer : "The Golf Course In The Sky"

 

 

 

THE GOLF COURSE IN THE SKY

As eighteen flags flew at half mast, and

Glasses were soberly raised high

The latest member was having a ball

At the golf course in the sky

 

Freed from the gravity of the situation

The first tee shot soared through space

Bringing a wondrous, beaming smile

To a kind, down to earth face

 

Surrounded by old club friends

Once thought never to be seen again

The infinity course beckoned ahead

Eighteen holes were for mere mortal men

 

Michael Ashby

 

 


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