They’ve identified our golf club

for returning to the wild

It’s to become a verdant Eden 

For every adult, dog and child

A place of natural splendour

Where no groundsmen smoke or hunker

Sheltering from the elements in the deeper fairway bunkers

No more Pringle sweaters in pink and blue and grey

No more Captain’s Prize and no more Ladies’ Day

No more midweek medals o...

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I joined a bowls club last year and found myself enjoying the pastime.  I wrote the following 'poem' at the end of the season.   One of my first endeavours.

Autumn meant the end of the bowls season,
 A pastime, which, for many, has no reason.
 With it’s competitions, friendlies, and roll-ups.
 No! not a ciggie, opportunities for tune ups,
 Greens upon which friends, each try to outplay
 By...

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