In the morning light, where silence reigns,
A whispering breeze brushes the plains,
The dew-kissed grass, a gentle stage,
For dreams to dance in a tranquil cage.

Beneath the sky, with hope anew,
The golfer stands, the world in view,
Each swing a story, untold, profound,
In harmony with nature, no sound, no bound.

The ball takes flight, a soaring dream,
Against the blue, a fleeting gleam,
It lands with grace, on verdant sea,
A journey’s mark, where it longs to be.

As sun dips low, with shadows long,
The day whispers its gentle song,
On these fairways, where spirits play,
A golfer’s heart finds its way.