Beneath the sky, so wide and vast,
The gentle swing, the club steadfast.
Among the trees, the whispers flow,
Where dreams and shadows softly go.
The ball takes flight, a graceful arc,
In morning light, or evening dark.
The fairways stretch, a verdant sea,
A canvas for tranquility.
Each step a path, a silent quest,
In search of par, the heartâs behest.
The flags afar, a distant call,
Guiding the soul through rise and fall.
The game of patience, skill, and grace,
A journey in this tranquil space.
On whispered greens, the heart finds peace,
In every swing, a sweet release.