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Poetry Prompt: Dewsweepers

By Heather Eure 12 Comments

Poetry Prompt: Dewsweepers

The first players off the tee in the early morning are known as Dewsweepers. From the 1st to 18th hole, these golfers literally help sweep the dew from the course. Poetic, don’t you think?

It should come as no surprise that poetry has a solid place in golf—some of the earliest golf poems date back to the 1600’s.  After all, the space between the ball and the hole can be a great yearning chasm for even the best golfer.

It’s a game mastered by no one.

From Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s poem, “A Lay of the Links“:

With the turf ’neath our tread and the blue overhead,
And the song of the lark in the whin
There’s the flag and the green, with the bunkers between—
Now will you be over or in?

POETRY PROMPT: Imagine you’re a Dewsweeper. Write a poem about an early morning walk through the grass. What lies ahead of you? What impression will you leave behind?

Photo by Alosh Bennett. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.

_____________

Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!

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Heather Eure
Heather Eure
Heather Eure has served as the Poetry Editor for the late Burnside Collective and Special Projects Editor for us at Tweetspeak Poetry. Her poems have appeared at Every Day Poems. Her wit has appeared just about everywhere she's ever showed up, and if you're lucky you were there to hear it.
Heather Eure
Latest posts by Heather Eure (see all)
  • Poetry Prompt: Misunderstood Lion - March 19, 2018
  • Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
  • Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018

Filed Under: Blog, Golf & Greens, Golf Poems, poetry, poetry prompt, poetry teaching resources, writing prompts

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Comments

  1. Richard Maxson says

    April 29, 2015 at 8:56 am

    Green Angels

    not to be found
    by a shoe print
    in the settle of dew,
    we crossed in the rough,
    to the ponds and slid in, blind divers,
    barefoot, shirtless, feeling
    for the white gold,
    sacking them like goose eggs
    we sold back, half-priced
    to the not-so-long drivers.

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      May 4, 2015 at 2:53 am

      Ah, yes! The art of hawking. A peaceful endeavor… mostly. We had several resident alligators so it added a little excitement for our ball divers. 😉

      Clever poem, Richard!

      Reply
  2. Bethany R. says

    April 30, 2015 at 1:45 pm

    I enjoyed your poem, Rick. The line, “sacking them like goose eggs,” was such a great insertion of fun. The mouthfeel of the line itself fits the feeling. The poem’s concept is something that took me by surprise after staring longingly at the dreamy photo for a full minute. What a delight.

    Reply
    • Richard Maxson says

      May 1, 2015 at 4:21 am

      Thanks for reading and commenting, Bethany.

      Reply
  3. Robbie Pruitt says

    April 30, 2015 at 10:45 pm

    Gideon
    Judges 6:36-40

    Gideon took a morning saunter
    Out upon the green,
    Where the dew lay in peace,
    Upon all, except the fleece.
    Gideon trusted this scene.
    He knew what it would mean.
    ‘But on all the ground let there be dew’
    And there it was in front of him in full view.

    © April 30, 2015, Robbie Pruitt

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      May 4, 2015 at 2:55 am

      Wonderful, Robbie!

      Reply
      • Robbie Pruitt says

        May 4, 2015 at 10:27 pm

        Thank you Heather! Enjoyed participating and reading everyone’s poetry.

        Reply
  4. Candy says

    May 2, 2015 at 11:16 am

    heavy feet shuffle
    through the diamond dew leaving
    giant- like snail trails

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      May 4, 2015 at 2:57 am

      They are rather snail-like, aren’t they? Thanks for sharing, Candy!

      Reply
  5. Prasanta says

    May 4, 2015 at 1:43 am

    Shadows

    Words fall like mist upon
    morning; awaken dust,

    soak dry bones. I wipe off dew
    and see that you have left your

    prints on my flesh. I am no longer
    a ghost; I move like wind, seek

    quiet shadows, and translate
    their words into music.

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      May 4, 2015 at 3:00 am

      “…you have left your prints on my flesh.” Love the way this poem lingers in my mind, Prasanta.

      Reply

Trackbacks

  1. Heroes and Villains: Playlist and Prompt - says:
    May 4, 2015 at 8:01 am

    […] to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s a poem from Prasanta we […]

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