An oracle concerning Foxtail South Wail oh golfers of Foxtail South; Fall on your faces, those that love The south course. For the course is dried up as The grass in summer; The course is a waterless waste Like the desert in Zion. The bare lands crack with the heat; The ponds dry up and scum over. The geese flock and consume the Fresh vegetation as a pestilence From the Lord. Behold! A remnant of old loves Foxtail South As a bride groom his bride. Their faithful play will restore its fortunes. But woe is he that speaks against Foxtail South saying, “Aha Aha, the course is not worthy of us”. For they will be like the chaff Which the wind blows away. In their pride they will be Consumed as twigs in a fire. Let them not think they will Score any better at any other course. Blessed are those that Love Foxtail South and Play there regularly. They will be like the Oaks of Windsor—strong and mighty. Their shots will be true, always On the fairway. Their putts Will be pure, always dropping in.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Jul 2013 02:37:05 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015