Loving the Golfer

His logic blew by me

But sometimes love works best

If you ask few questions

He insisted a new club

Was just the ticket, would

Be the trick, make him

A winning golfer

I never resented

His ‘dates’ on the green

Wasn’t a ‘golf widow’

He joked that his ashes

Should be spread there…

Just a widow now

Thirty years, I still can’t

Give those clubs away

The man fit me to a tee*

©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.


*I’m taking poetic license here—the correct phrase, I’ve learned, is “fit to a T” (I’m no golf expert either🙂)

Brain Pain (Limerick)

What can be said about this old gray brain?

Mystery, oft’ silly…but I mustn’t disdain.

It wasn’t the keenest way back in my youth—

Jumble-tumbled with romance…now, there’s rosy truth.

That’s long-past mirage—today, thinking’s a pain😉

©Zelda Rene, 2021 ~ All rights reserved.