Springdale Resort In South India Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Sitting in the lobby of a resort, looking around, a desk
near the entrance where they take reservations and food
preferences for dinner.

Old fashioned large chairs lining both sides of the lobby
and at the far end where I'm sitting, writing on a table
made of a tree stump, a large one, two chairs beside it.

In the center of the room is another large tree stump,
top flattened into a table, varnished with a mahogany
shine, beautiful in itself.

Ceramic octagons covering the entire floor, reddish in
color, on the wall across from where I'm sitting is a
small mirror and vanity, mahogany, but not so shiny.

On the wall above me is a plaque of some sort from the
government of India in 1930, recognizing Springdale Resort
as the first resort ever in this area.