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Golf
I have concluded golf is but a whore.
One day she will embrace me for a fee.
The next, she will rebuff me without thought
Of what my love for her may mean to us.
And, still she takes my money even though
Consistency is far from her cruel mind.
She is the solace of my restive day,
I show her so by my fidelity.
She teases me with faith of better times,
Then, leaves me in the state of my lost hope.
I find that I am gripped within her will.
Unable to extract myself from her
Beguiling charm, though I am aware
Of her abuse, I cannot seem to leave.
I try, but I return each day,
Trapped in the web of her adulterous self.
(Blank Verse)
poem
by
Lynn W. Petty
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