Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GOLF, by OLIVER MURRAY EDWARDS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

GOLF, by                    
First Line: On uncle ebenezer's farm
Last Line: That gives me weariness.
Subject(s): Golf; Play; Sports


On Uncle Ebenezer's farm,
Upon a summer's day,
The farm hands at the crack of dawn
Went out to harvest hay.
A motley crowd is gathered now
Upon those fields at play:
With golf suits and with funny sticks
They scare the crows away.

They're just as early on their job
Of runnin' 'round and 'round,
And knockin' balls about with sticks
Until they're lost and found.
Like turkey buzzards in a field,
Just desecratin' ground,
Consumin', not producin'—
Oft with a gurglin' sound.

The movie bunch has got 'em beat,
For they get five per day,
With costumes also furnished free,
While these nuts have to pay.
I wish the gang at Washington
Would take their sticks away,
And pass a law, from twenty-four,
Twelve hours to hit the hay.

For now up at the Huntington
You can't get breakfast late,
The golfers, they are up and gone
Before it's half-past eight:
The boss has closed the dining room
Before I've time to dress,
'Tis just that crazy bunch of guys
That gives me weariness.





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