Par 4 The Coarse? Poem by Dan Reynolds

Par 4 the coarse?

Reflection is a double-bladed sword
that takes joy in unveiling all you did
The chestnut dangling on the knotted cord
The space beneath the stairs where we once hid

It brings the Christmas laughter and the tears
That "Arnold Palmer Pro shot Golf Club" game
You'd found where it was hidden, it appears
But tried to act surprised then, just the same.

A rounded square foam mat laid for the green.
The fairway was the carpet in your room.
Three plastic bunkers made your eye-sight keen,
avoid them at your peril or your doom.

The clubs were interchangeable of course
Putter, wedge, a driver and an iron
You struggled so to master the right force,
as from the tee the trigger you were firin'

This little plastic golfer at your feet
Which must've been designed by someone dumb
Alas poor Arnold Palmer came complete
with a metal 3 foot stick out of his bum