Discovered this poem on the old hard drive.  I had forgotten I had written it, but I like the play on the golfing terminology, and how it weaves in to the story telling…

So I thought I would share!

A Wealth of Sadness

 by Rochelle Elliot ©

Chip shot…

The castle in Scotland sold,

a few less bars of gold.

The recession should diminish the

want for more,

– but that’s the poor man thinking.

Draw shot…

Six hundred redundant

from five abandoned factories,

sure it breaks my heart.

Children die in Africa too, but what can I do?

I can’t save ’em all.

I made it fair and square and I won’t care

for those who judge my enjoyment.

Albatross… 3 under par

My life’s best work

started on this course.

The birds in the tree’s on the 12th tee

remind me of Salina.

Third wife, I loved holding her hand,

like coaxing a nervous finch from its perch.

I knew enough not to startle her.

Preferred lie…

Her father’s heart attacked him,

she took my private jet, to check.

He was bitter at her bettering.

He asked, “What’s a rich bloke like him doing

with a useless tramp like you?”

Then he died to spite her.

Putting green…

She looked damn sexy

at the funeral,

I took a few pills and stayed on after.

Made her more happy than the

diamond engagement ring.


She cleared the mess,

complained less that number two.

Grateful to have me I guess.

Eagle… 2 under par

She discovered

the other woman.

I was sad the day she left.

A few pennies less.




It’s always hard finding another wife.