I think the fun of playing golf is all about the buggies,

Those suntanned people whiz around, grins splashed across the faces!

High on fresh air and camaraderie, they swing and chat and giggle,

They arch their backs, stick out their bums, then do a little wiggle!

They speak a language of their own, have handicaps, love birdies.

Their balls land in the ruff at times, which could be rather painful.

It seems “tee-off” is not a curse, and bogeys are not juicy,

While double-bogeys kind of suck, a foursome’s nothing kinky.

I wish I had my own buggy to whizz around the golf course,

I’d wear cute outfits, shorts and skirts in techno-posh material.

My watch would do real fancy stuff (according to the manual),

My golf-bag would be aqua-blue with daisy golf-club cosies.

My suntan would be golden brown, I’d wear a coral lipstick,

My cap would be the holy kind, my head gets really sweaty.

I’d arch my back, stick out my bum, I’m really good at wiggling!

I’d take my swing, and hit the ball, and pray for random… pigeons!