The oak tree has fallen, crashed to the ground

The space it had taken, the green it’s surround

The beauty is gone, and the challenge is too

The tree required planning for those playing through

Not only does it change the spot that we knew

It is the absence of challenge we know to be true

We hope a replacement will indeed take its place

So we can continue playing that hole with grace

Maybe graceful is better so much as we

Make a tribute from us to hole number three

In the end, the beautiful tree has died and, for me, I cried