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The Tickle Bee

May 1st 2008 - In my hand I hold a ball… white and dimpled, rather small… Oh, how bland it does appear… this harmless looking little sphere. By its size I could not guess… the awesome strength it does posses… But since I fell beneath its spell… I’ve wandered through the fires of hell… My life has not been quite the same… Since I chose to play this stupid game It rules my mind for hours on end… A fortune it has made me spend… It has made me swear and yell and cry I hate myself and want to die… It promises a thing called par… If I can hit both straight and far To master such a tiny ball… Should not be very hard at all… But my desires the ball refuses… And so; it does exactly like it chooses It hooks and slices, dribbles and dices… And even disappears before my eyes Often it will take a whim… To hit a tree or take a swim With miles of grass on which to land… It finds a tiny patch of sand Then has me offering up my soul… If only it would find the hole Its made me whimper like a pup And swear that I will give it up… I take a drink to ease my sorrow But the ball knows…   I’ll be back tomorrow!!! Happy golfing!!!

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