2 min read
Слушать

Seaside Golf

How straight it flew, how long it flew,

It clear'd the rutty

And soaring, disappeared from

Beyond the bunker's back -A glorious, sailing, bounding

That made me glad I was alive.

And down the fairway, far

It glowed a lonely white;

I played an iron sure and

And clipp'd it out of sight,

And spite of grassy banks betweenI knew I'd find it on the green.

And so I did.

It lay

Two paces from the pin;

A steady putt and then it

Oh, most surely in.

The very turf rejoiced to

That quite unprecedented three.

Ah!

Seaweed smells from sandy

And thyme and mist in whiffs,

In-coming tide,

Atlantic

Slapping the sunny cliffs,

Lark song and sea sounds in the

And splendour, splendour everywhere.

0
0
14
Give Award

Sir John Betjeman

Sir John Betjeman CBE (/ˈbɛtʃəmən/; 28 August 1906 – 19 May 1984) was an English poet, writer, and broadcaster. He was Poet Laureate from 1972 u…

Other author posts

Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments

Reading today

Рудбекия (Золотые шары)
Оползень настроения
Ryfma
Ryfma is a social app for writers and readers. Publish books, stories, fanfics, poems and get paid for your work. The friendly and free way for fans to support your work for the price of a coffee
© 2024 Ryfma. All rights reserved 12+