In the hush of dawn, the fairway calls,
Where emerald dreams in silence lie,
Gentle whispers through morning mists,
A golfer’s heart begins to fly.

With every swing, a story unfolds,
Of patience, grace, and timeless art,
The dance of shadows on sunlight’s gold,
A gentle rhythm, a beating heart.

The ball in flight, a soaring hope,
Arcs across the endless skies,
A journey bound by whispered prayers,
Where nature’s beauty softly cries.

As evening falls, the echoes fade,
Yet dreams of victory linger near,
In dreams of green, a promise made,
A golfer’s soul forever clear.