When I was a kid, home remedies were the thing!
No trip to the doctor for a cold or bad cough..
Mama had a fix for near every hurt, big or small
or in between. The worst, the most dreadful, the
run and hide treatment..the Mustard Plaster!
Some flannel cut into big, big strips...Cover with
mustard until it drips..into the oven to get
steaming hot..then slap that sucker on the spot.
Around your chest, fastened tight..must keep
it hot..althrough the night...It burned, it itched, and it
smelled to high heaven..Who knows if it helped at all..
but I do know that we learned not to voice
minor discomfort..it had to be a real disaster..
cause if you complained.out came the Mustard Plaster!...
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.