With the 2010 Ryder Cup Competition having started today in Newport, Wales (don't say this blog isn't topical, though I think it's the only time I've referred to golf, as I'm just not interested in it!) - I wonder if anyone can tell me how this seemingly modest verse of poetry is related to my next post on the Cornish Coast Path?
How straight it flew, how long it flew,
It clear'd the rutty track
And soaring, disappeared from view
Beyond the bunker's back -
A glorious, sailing, bounding drive
That made me glad I was alive.
All the clues are there!