The Lost Ball – Golf Poetry


STANDING one day on the golf links, 
Weary and ill at ease, 

I topped and foozled idly
Over the whins and tees ; 

I know not where I was gazing, 
Or what I was dreaming then — 

But I smote that ball of a sudden 
With the force of two-score men. 

It sped through the crimson twilight 
Like a shot of a twelve-inch gun. 

And it passed from my fevered vision 
To the realm of the vanished sun. 

I watched it over the bunker. 
It jumped over hazard and hill; 

It went like a thing infernal — 
I suppose it is going still. 

I have sought, but I seek it vainly, 
That ball of the strenuous pace. 

Which passed from the sole of my driver 
And entered into space. 

It may be some keen-eyed caddie 
Can sooner or later explain ; 

It may be that only in heaven 
I shall find that ball again. 

- Laura Simmons in Lure of the Links, 1921

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