In honor of my brother-in-law and my uncle, who both celebrate their birthdays today and love golf, I’m offering golf poetry on the Cupertino Poetry Exchange.

This New York Times article is a fascinating tale about the poetry written by golfers and golf enthusiasts. I have to say, I had absolutely no idea.

“People who wrote golf poetry were golfers, and they understood the perversities and intricacies of the game,” he added.

White’s book assembles 90 poems by 45 writers from England, Scotland and the United States, including himself. Among the highlights are works by the authors Arthur Conan Doyle and Rudyard Kipling, the golf course architect Robert Trent Jones Jr. and the sportswriter Grantland Rice.

Dr. Leon S White, the author of the book reviewed in the NY Times, Golf Course Rhymes, has a blog, at which you can read some of the most fun poems I’ve read all month. Here’s just a taste!

On Putting

When the greens were fast and freakish,
Once my putts were either weakish
Or absurdly strong.
Now I calmly snap my digits
For I play with Spaulding “Midgets,”
Not a putt goes wrong.

When a green’s too hard for others,
Have recourse to Spaulding Brothers!
Buy the perfect ball.
Architects may slope and ridge it,
But you’ll always hole a “Midget,”
And defeat them all.

Read the whole post in which Dr. White describes how this advertisement for Spaulding appeared in a 1914 issue of Golf Magazine and the poem’s relationship to Robert Frost.

Happy Birthday to my beloved family members and happy golfing to anyone who’s out enjoying spring this weekend.