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Tiger Tiger in the rough
How many holes will be enough?
What immortal bunker shot
Could stop your gonads getting hot?
How many eagles lifted high
Could distract your roving eye?
How many birdies on green sward
Could make you sheath the old pork sword?
No flag exists you cannot find
Is this done by power of mind?
Or does each pulsing hammer blow
Issue from a realm below?
Tiger Tiger in the rough
Your face is made to polish muff
Thence your cheeks most holy shine
Your perfect round of sixty-nine
You're the one the girls all like
Driven as the balls you strike
Men feel you enrich their lives
Unless by chance you shag their wives
You're the best we've ever seen
Straight and true from tee to green
Your message must not be denied
By second comings multiplied
Tiger Tiger in the rough
You cannot be a powder puff
Your place is in the mad abyss
Not in cosy household bliss
In our ordered neighbourhoods
Your are the monster in the woods
Shred the captain's tidy coat
Eat his nuts, rip out his throat
We watch you, we who are so chaste
With mix of envy and distaste
With horror we admire the beast
But all wouldst gaily share the feast
Drives approaches chips and putts
Merge into the lips and butts
Of women you would some day woo
Hence your aim so straight and true
And many trophies on your shelf
Symbols of your inner self
Of tournaments of sexual fun
Objects once pursued and won
Tiger Tiger under par
Whom you do is what you are
No skill you'd have, or wondrous craft
But for the hands around your shaft
Tiger Tiger in the rough
How many holes will be enough?
What immortal bunker shot
Could stop your gonads getting hot?
© Nick Weldon February 2010
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