On The Golf Club Porch – Golf Poetry
OI THE GOLF CLUB PORCH As we sit and dream in the silent porch Together, my pipe and I, A cloud of smoke from the old brown bowl Floats up to the dappled sky ; And I watch through its dim, enchanted haze A little sunbonnet go, In shadow and shine o'er the grassy links That lie in the vale below. For early and late, all the long, bright day. It is busy flitting there; With a caddie wandering in its train, Wliile the white ball flies in the air; A sunbonnet, ancient of pattern, such As Priscilla's sweet self wore When she walked witli the homesick pilgrim maids Long since, on an alien shore. And the jolly lads, in the jackets red — There's never a one goes by But he slacks his pace and he turns his head, And he feels his heart beat high At the glance he gets and the smile he brings To the roguish face within That sheltering scoop, with its soft strings tied In a knot beneath her chin. But I bide my time on the silent porch, For I know whom she loves best, And that by and bye, when the game is done, And the day lies low in the west. She will hang her sunbonnet on her arm, And the peeping stars will see What a soft light lies in her happy eyes, As she wanders home with me. Anonymous.
An anonymous golf poem from the 1921 collection Lyrics of the Links
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