Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Hitting the Rio links…

T'was a blithe day before last when the lady and I and Pops deigned to dust off our clubs and hit the links!
The dainty little minx sat perched upon our conveyance without a care in the world…
…so too did the lord of the manor, doffed in his gayest apparel. 
Though to suggest that anything about the lord's stature was gay in any way untoward would be akin to sacrificing one's head on the tee. (Not a becoming fate, to be sure.)
The lady did not protest overmuch, but did place the ball not three paces from the hole where she doth indicate. (Beginner's luck.)
Though her assets are many, the greatest of those were her chance findings of quite a bit of evidence bearing against a golfer's shame in the rough. (And a found quarter to boot!)
And paying no heed to our errant orbs, the geese strode placidly by to a shadier spot. T'would seem it was us that provided the sport, and nature the audience. (A happy ending, regardless the score.)