Golfing On The Moon - (Alan Shepard: Apollo 14)

He was a good old American boy: Draped like an idol in the stars & stripes. He was a firm believer in freedom And the grand power of progress. He was a bright, comic book Buck Rogers: Made flesh & blood; stylish, cool & cocky. O he dreamed of scaling heavenly heights Like Belief's kind angels..o how he dreamed! Yes he was born to roam the galaxy! O if you could picture him in his prime! With his bulky suit and bubble helmet Dragging His N.A.S.A space cart behind him To collect the random, lunar rocks; Wearily climbing significant craters: All in the name of cold, calculated science. O but he is most fondly remembered As the first man to hit a golf ball on, The crude media saturated moon. In that same crucial mission, he swung hard And true with trusted, rusted six iron At a teed up, miniature pock marked moon. O yes it shot out of a spray of dust And it traveled for miles & miles & miles... Our hero would become immortalized!