The Leprechaun Plays Golf
Last hole, par three, Pat takes his stand, A leprechaun with club in hand. A tricky shot, he swings away Hoping it's his lucky day. The ball soars high, a graceful flight, Towards the hole, a perfect sight. But alas, it's far too long Pat didn't know he was that strong Undeterred, Pat makes a chip Just past the hole the ball does slip Pat putts it in, a gentle tap, He makes a par, the lucky chap. Pat wins the match and jumps with glee, And dances in his victory. Pot O' Gold won, Pat's on his way, To play again some other day. - The Golf Blogger
Image via StableDiffusion AI. Poem by me after I tried to get an AI to write a golf poem and decided I could do better. The AI had a really hard time using golf terms correctly.
