on the farm when I was small,
Few doctors ever came to call.
The reason was, I'm sure it's true,
That Mama knew just what to do.
When we kids coughed she'd fix a poultice
That burned our chests like the summer solstice.
But it cured our colds and runny noses,
Although its smell was not like roses.
One remedy I won't forget,
She gave to us each time we'd fret.
The taste of it would make us fuss,
But it chased the bugs right out of us.
That Castor Oil would send us runnin'
To the old outhouse, and I ain't funnin'.
My mama said it'd cure all ills
and eliminate those doctor bills.
Now she was right, of this I'm sure --
If it didn't kill, 'twas bound to cure.
But if it's still around today,
I hope it's banned by the FDA!
Copyright © 1996 Ruth Gillis
published in the July 1996 issue of Chicken
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