G-Mac

I don't know who to congratulate first; Rory McIlroy for his stunning performance in winning the 111th U.S. Open, or my friend Francis Cole-Davies on the birth of his first born. Both are significant events for each of them, their family, and their friend, but yet each event is also so different.

Mind you, the feelings of elation, and thoughts about what the future holds probably applies equally to both events that happened yesterday.

I shall get around to writing the next poem in due course, but this one was written this afternoon before I heard the news from my friend.

G-Mac

Who is this McIlroy,
A young son of Ulster,
Age only twenty two,
With a very long swing,
To enhance his golf game.

You know, the one that won,
The U.S. Open that time,
This Ulsterman Rory,
Whose putting did bring,
A top Major to name.

Yes, I know the one,
Scoring minus sixteen,
Over those four long days,
Again did Ireland win,
Golf shall not be the same.

From Holywood this Champion,
Youngest since twenty three,
Two six and eight, his run,
Ball flying like a wing,
Maryland Rory did tame.



Roger Bennett
June 2011

The poem consists of four stanzas set out as a quintet with three feet per line. As usual I exercise my right to be known as the author if anyone tries to use my poem.