There once was a golfer;
could shoot way under parr
but then he became sick;
thought he’d never be star.
He laid in his bed
for weeks on end
playing great golf
but only pretend.
Weeks went by;
hitting the perfect shot;
dreaming all the time;
giving it all he got.
When over the sickness
several weeks later;
to the golf course he went;
shot his best round ever.
Poem by Mark Shields – © 01-05-2017
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Reblogged this on This Day With God and commented:
Being at your best in a sport, requires not only the physical aspects of the sport but also the mental aspect. This same requirement is also involved in being the best we can be in life. This poem is about a golfer that becomes sick but plays rounds of golf in his mind while getting better.