Seaside Golf, a celebration from Betjamin.
I regularly return to this life affirming poem from the great English poet John Betjamin, it's simplicity and joy show the beauty of playing golf on the links (seaside) golf courses of Britain.
Seaside Golf
How straight it flew, how long it flew
It cleared
And soaring disappeared from view
Beyond the bunker's back -
A glorious, sailing, bounding drive
That made me glad I was alive.
And down the fairway, far along
It glowed a lonely white;
I played an iron sure and strong
And clipped it out of sight,
And spite of grassy banks between
I knew I'd find it on the green.
And so I did, it lay content
Two paces from the pin;
A steady putt and then it went
Oh, most securely in.
The very turf rejoiced to see
That quite unprecedented three.
Ah! Seaweed smells from sandy caves
And thyme and mist in whiffs,
In-coming tide, Atlantic waves
Slapping sunny cliffs,
Lark song and sea sounds in the air
And splendour, splendour everywhere.
John Betjamin
Comments