Poem 29 of 230: MAZDA
In Nadi, Fiji, beside the airport,
There’s a course where I played a game.
I was met by a young Fijian lad,
Who told me, “Mazda’s my nickname.”
He accompanied me throughout the round,
And I asked, “Why the name ‘Mazda’?”
He explained that, during a rugby match,
He’d just keep running - "like a car."
I mentioned to him how I’d driven far
An old Mazda four-cylinder.
Then, back into the town, I caught a van,
And, sure enough, ‘twas a Mazda!
(C) David Franks 2003
In Nadi, Fiji, beside the airport,
There’s a course where I played a game.
I was met by a young Fijian lad,
Who told me, “Mazda’s my nickname.”
He accompanied me throughout the round,
And I asked, “Why the name ‘Mazda’?”
He explained that, during a rugby match,
He’d just keep running - "like a car."
I mentioned to him how I’d driven far
An old Mazda four-cylinder.
Then, back into the town, I caught a van,
And, sure enough, ‘twas a Mazda!
(C) David Franks 2003
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| One of my collected scorecards |
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| Fijian tapa barkcloth, from my visit in 1990 |
Location on Google Maps (new tab)
