Ode to Golf Revised

Upon reading this poem again (and 11 years in between!) I can see some issues with it. The rhythm wants to work, but doesn't ... so I revised it (and got rid of that annoying un-rhyme I remember not being able to lose in 97). So here it is:

ODE TO GOLF REVISED (9 November, 2008)

An endless sea of rolling green,
With sweaty palms and face so keen
I stand upon a lonely hill
A silent breeze, my bones do chill.

A thick silence envelopes me,
It's like a fog I cannot see.
My arms swing back, I sight once more,
I slice the air and call out 'Fore'.

(c) Lillian Martin