Sunday morning not a sound
Not a breath of wind
House is silent, silent still
A cool July a little chill
The Open’s final round
Will Jordan take the Claret Jug?
Or will it fall to Grace
Who birdied yesterday all day
And made a record on his way
Who will take the mug?
The hoo-ha round poor Rory
Getting him all het up
Only to see him flounder
Rise and then a downer
No one can grab glory
The game requires the best of us
To suffer and achieve
See some things fail no matter what
And some things left to be forgot
And still we play the course
Each day a new shot can be made
To fairways fair or foul
And then the approach to blissful green
A steady putt now to be seen
And we have made the grade
The course of life we do not choose
We only hit the ball
Circumstance does not make us lose
Purpose and meaning are ours to choose
Frankl says it all
The Open Championship of life
Is open to all to play
Make your score with every ounce
Enjoy the round it’s only once
And enjoy the company
Brian Fahy
23 July 2017
Victor Frankl teaches us that life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.
Erris Poetry 