The season is upon us, and so that all you duffers out there are prepared, heres a little poem for you all to memorize and trot out as the need arises.

Trees: A Golfing Parody

I think that I shall never see

a hazard rougher than an tree;

A tree oer which my ball must fly

if on the green it is to lie.

A tree which stands that green to guard,

and makes the shot extremely hard;

A tree whose leafy arms extend

to kill the six iron shot I send.

A tree that stands in silence there,

while angry golfers rave and swear.

Irons were made for fools like me

who cannot ever miss a tree.

(Author unknown, but with apologies to Joyce Kilmer)