Christmas Poem

My son needed a poem for school he could act out as he read. That was kind of hard to find. So I wrote this for him. It was my first one, have wrote many more since. Hope you enjoy this one.

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© Jeff Opperman more by Jeff Opperman

Published: Oct 2009

Christmas Golf

Back in October a Christmas wish I made.
A brand new set of golf clubs before next year I played.
Then on Christmas morn, with my eyes I spied
An oblong box under the tree, with ribbon wrapped and tied.

I looked out the window and saw the ice and snow.
But in my heart I knew, a golfing I would go.
Now I'd need some special gear to play in these conditions.
So I loaded up my golf bag to start a new tradition.

A broom to sweep the greens and a hammer for the tees
And different colored balls for white I wouldn't see.
Arriving at the course, the ground was glistening white.
I wouldn't have to wait, a tee time was no plight.

I swept away a pile of snow and pounded in a tee.
Placed a colored ball atop it and swung away with glee.
My ball went soaring down the fairway and landed with a flop
Into a two foot snow drift (unplayable), take a drop.

My next shot went into the sand, a shot to truly dread.
Then all at once I spotted him, a man all dressed in red.
As I'm lining up my shot, it's Santa Claus I think,
When my ball flew in the hole, He looked at me and winked.

I knew these clubs were going to work, I'd just made a par.
Let's play one hole together before heading for your car.
To believe in Santa at sixteen, you might think it queer,
But it isn't very often you get to see reindeer.

A long par par three lay next, as we walked upon the tee.
There was no flag to aim for and the green I couldn't see
Don't worry said the man in red, I know what lies ahead.
Use your trusty five iron and aim it for my sled.

I'd like to thank you for these clubs, I wasn't sure that I would get.
He said your welcome son, but Christmas isn't over yet
I kept my head nice and still checked my stance and grip.
"Nice shot" said the bearded one, it's hanging on the lip.

It seems a shame, he must be blind, there's no ball upon the green
And I was disappointed because I'll stuck it crisp and clean
And now you know my story and know one would believe.
How I made my first hole in one with Santa there to see.

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