Connahaynee

Here's a poem about the burning of the Connahaynee Lodge.

Mountains, sky, field and rocks

Timbers and nails, woolen socks

Paths and trails, blazes on trees

guests reveled in nature’s breeze.

Darkness fell, an early night

Barn owls called to hunt at night

Bears retreated, asleep ‘til spring

Scarce to eat, no wasted thing

Valley, dale, spur and draw

Snowflakes whirled until the thaw

Then fires roared beside the brick

Too hot to handle and spread too quick

Chestnut logs burned that night

The guests all fled in urgent flight

The Colonel’s dream was now no more

The Lodge burned down unto the floor

Mountains, sky, field and doom

A vaulted chimney upon a tomb

The fires are gone, but the past won’t stop

beneath the trees of Burrell Top