Holiday In The Punjab Poem by Jim McGill

At an aristocratical hotel, in the Punjab
Where pink onyx graced the front facade
Two posh ladies served the entrance desk
Their demur was exquisite I frankly can attest
So I leaned across as if to whisper in an ear
'Please help me with a problem I have here
I couldn't recall, when on the bowling lawn
The number of the floor my room was on'

'I was quite certain it was on the sixth floor
But, I thought and thought again once more
And in my mind, the seventh was transfixed
Because I believed, I had passed the sixth
While coming back down again to the lobby'
The ladies spoke to each other in Punjabi
'Most assuredly Sir, ' one proper lady replied
'With older guest, disorientation is bona fide'

'But, I assure you no problem was incurred
I just checked and your room is on the third
There is however one small detail I wish tell
There are only three floors in this hotel'