Six Little Soldiers
Like six little soldiers
They stood in a row.
Each one shaking
Their proud heads, no.
As daddy walked by
Like a General in review,
He'd ask once again;
Was it you-or you?
As each eye peeked
To question the other,
The decision was made
They'd stand there together.
So bravely they stood
As daddy passed by
Using the rod
With a tear in his eye.
It couldn't be seen,
But I knew it was there.
He was proud of his soldiers
With their unblinking stare.
If nothing else learned,
This one thing was plain:
They'd all stick together
Whatever the pain.
Copyright 1984
Clara Scarberry
The Birth of A Poem
Clara was telling me how this poem came about:
"When Dad and I were at number six kids,
when we would catch them sneaking anything
we would ask "who did that", or "who got into
(whatever it was)"
and they would always deny being the culprit.
So, we would line them up and
then walk down the line asking
"Was it you? or you?"
pointing a finger at each one..
They would hang their heads
and sheepishly nod "no",
at which each would receive
a whack on the butt....
the question was repeated,
as was the punishment, until Shari,
the smart one would finally admit
she was the guilty one...
the rest of the crew was let off,
and the guilty one an extra whack
for causing the rest of them
to be punished for something she did..
So the poem years later,
at which time the little blonde tomboy
admitted she had once again lied
just so the ordeal was over ...
she admitted, when grown,
that she was not going to stand there
and get whacked any more
for something she didn't do...
one last whack was enough...
They all knew our oldest boy, Fred,
was the guilty one.
He was always in trouble...
They didn't recognize ADD,
or ADHD back then
but I would swear now
that he had both...lol"
Copyright Clara Scarberry
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Six Little Soldiers
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