Our new putting "poet in residence" is Paul Tarvydas of Toronto Canada!
Congratulations!
Below is the winning submission.
There once was a captain named Winey
Whose crew manned Torpedoes quite shiny
With no doubts, even tiny,
No ifs, ands or buts,
His crew avowed "We sink more putts!"
There once was a captain named Tim
His crew all sang the same hymn
Some putted for dough
Others did so for fun
With each putt, they intoned "Fire One!"
In a hammock on an old oak trunk,
Squirrels chattering, Tim stretched out and thunk
An acorn, kerplunk!
Hit Tim's head, broke his funk
Gravity forced his ideas on how good putts were sunk!
Tim the inventor was eclectic
His ideas about golf were dialectic
He tried an x'spearamint
With shapes of a pyramid
The buzz amid golfers turned electric.
There once was an inventor named Tim
He wanted more putts to go in
He made a club for his son
The Torpedo was done
And Tim exclaimed "Now, Fire One!".
Tim the inventor did think
That more putts on the green he could sink
Mixing golf with some lutherie,
Torpedoes and pyramids
His brainchild was named Stradivari.
