Birthday weekend at Holler’s Spa
Friends have told me it’s the best by far
Flew to the Blue-ridge Mountains
Vision of chalets, limos and fountains
Met by a man with a four wheeled truck
Hear You’ve come for Holler's potluck
Doggie! You’re in for a real treat
Lots of pretty ladies there to meet.
Pampered then polished is why I’ve come
Massage and mud packs that’s the bomb
Up a winding gravel road a mile around
Stopping he puts my things on ground
Then he drives off in his old truck
There’s nothing around just my luck.
Sun setting now I’m getting scared
No one can see me is what I feared!
Sat on the hill for an hour or more
A wall of rocks opened as the door.
The woman's clothing from long ago.
I never suspected a Spa was below.
Carved into belly of the mountain
Inside were the flowing fountains
Rocks, grass and trees hide it from view
This white-ridged mountain in the Blue
Inside is done in hand carved cedar
Indoor terrace has Cherubim feeders
Rooms colonial in type veiled in white
Meals exquisite best time of my life.
Holler’s Hunkerton Spa
Hidden in a holler of the mountain
Hunkered down under a grassy knoll
Spa’s natural springs Artesian fed
For resevations
Dial 888-Day-Dream
Copyright ©2005 Carole Cookie Arnold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem