THE HICKORY SWITCH

Mother would get so frustrated at times.
Raising six children was no easy task;
Especially six who were so much dissimilar
In interest and temperament.
It's no small wonder that
She was able to keep her sanity,
Able to refrain profanity
When six strong wills clashed with her own.
Amazing we all came to be fully-grown.

But mother has a secret companion
Tucked in the corner there by the window.
Twenty-eight inches of flexible pulp
Ripped from the limb of a nearby hickory,
Standing in wait for her to command
With the quickness of lightning,
The sting of a bee.

We always knew when the call went out,
When she summoned the threat of the hickory switch,
The time had come when her patience was broken,
Better to yield than to try and pitch
Our case any further, although the switch
Was really nothing to fear for the pain.
But the choice was made. the course was laid.
The switch had decided... There's no more to gain.

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