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Having made it to adulthood, I’ve come to realize, corrective punishment can have a lasting effect, without a parent ever laying a hand on the child. It can be applied so quickly, and is  much more efficient, than a spanking could be.

White Powder Sugar
 When I was about four years old, my sweet tooth came alive.
I craved 4XXXX Powder Sugar in many ways I could contrive.
I would heap it on bread with butter, on pancakes with syrup no less,
But the way I enjoyed it most of all, was heaped in a spoon I confess.

Mom would scold me; best I give up my careless bliss.
If I didn’t stop eating sugar, no good could come of this.
I was hooked, I admit it, powder sugar tasted good.
The yellow box was like a magnet; I ate much more than I should.

I’d fill my craving mouth, with that delicious stuff,
And tap lightly on my cheeks to create a cloud-like puff.
It’s liquid sweetness trickled down, into my waiting throat,
Barely reach my stomach, ‘ere I’d give it another coat.

Mom decided it was best for me, to put the box up high,
Above the sink, on a cupboard shelf, away from my searching eyes.
When time enough had passed, she allowed me another treat.
I would fill my mouth one more time, with sugar delicious and sweet.

My brother who was older; and having more self control.
Would fill a teaspoon just for me, and that’s all he would dole.
No matter how I whined or begged, for another spoon of that stuff,
He’d ignored me by saying, “You’ve already had enough.”

But, he’d take a tablespoon, and fill it with heaping care,
Maybe I was only four, but I knew that wasn’t fair.
I complained, “that’s not right,” he’d said, “it’s ‘cause I’m bigger.”
I said, “it’s ‘cause you’re just a pig, that’s the way I figure.”

He put the box back on the shelf, and closed the cupboard door;
As soon as he left the kitchen, my greedy mouth wanted more.
I got myself a tablespoon; pushed a chair to the sink.
If punishment could come from this, I didn’t take time to think.

Scrambling up I opened the door; there were boxes on the shelf galore.
I couldn’t read the names you know, after all I was only four.
My thoughts were on powdered sugar, white powder I liked to eat.
I took a yellow box from the shelf, envisioning a tasty treat.

Scooping deeply with a tablespoon, careful not to spill one bit,
I leaned over; crammed my mouth, encompassing the whole of it.
My eyes bulged, my mouth went dry, I got what was coming for sure.
That mouthful of white powder, was more than I bargained for.

It swelled in there, glued to my tongue, this powder as white as snow.
I tried hard to get rid of the stuff, it took a frightening time to go,
Punishment occurs in mysterious ways; it certainly happened to me
It wasn’t 4XXXX Powder Sugar; it was Cornstarch by ARGO, you see.


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Believe me Tinker, unless you have at one time or other swallowed Cornstarch by choice or by accident, You have one H--- of a time drawing even a short breath. Not only did I get a severe warning about not listening to my parents, my guardian angel decided it was time to step in. He did just enough , but remained in control of the procedure. 

Do I have a guardian angel. You can bet on it. I do not profess to be a christian, but I made a list of instances that indicate I should not be discussing this subject now, if it were not for him/her/it.


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12 minutes ago, Tinker said:


I see you rolling your eyes. Would you like to read an example?


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Sure..If there is a poem to be read...I don't judge anyone's beliefs.   I believe,  but honestly, "angels" only when I watch a baby jabbering and laughing to nobody but totally entertained.  Then maybe angels are laughing and talking back.  


~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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