Tale of the carryin’ crow

Albert Armstrong
Albert Armstrong

When approaching the tenth at High Throston

With my confidence as high as a kite

I consider a par’s within reason

Knowing the previous nine have been right

Selecting a club to start with

Yes, a three iron seems about right

I don’t want to drive the ball too far

And I don’t want to go to the right

Then perhaps a seven iron for safety

Leaving a chip and some work with a putter

It all went well up to striking the ball

Then my heart missed a beat and a flutter

It came from the east uninvited

Swooping down from out of the sun

It’s talons extended before it

It cried “I’m the ball carryin’ one”

It’s speed in excess of the barrier

Shock waves echoed over the ground

It’s eyes locked on the projectile

A new Callaway and perfectly round

The speed and ease of its landing

Caught the Callaway quite by surprise

And before you could say a “carryin’ crow”

It was off again up in the sky

Its after burn really was burning

As it turned and banked to the right

It disappeared over the old reservoir

Leaving me in a state, shaking with fright

Is it a female from Yorkshire

Hatched out at old Flyingdale

Or just a short sighted local

Courting a frustrated male?

– Albert Armstrong