She stormed in through the door, and let it slam
She kicked the chair from out her path, and let it fall
And catch her shin -- she stated in surprise, and then she yelled
"Oh shit, that's all I needed.  A bruise, and stockings badly run."
She started to abuse the world at large, for all its many faults
She cursed and stomped her feet, A perfect picture of an angry child.

"My dear, I will not have you acting like a child
You know what happens when you let doors slam
And curse, and run amok.  For these same faults
I've often punished your before.  The time, the strap will fall
Across your bottom until its red and sore.  Don't dare to run
Away from me, my brat." She closed her eyes and yelled.

Trying to drown my voice, to hear me not.  The more she yelled
The more I coldly stared.  She stilled her voice, and silence was the child
Of her tantrum.  Her defiance muted, for it had fully run
Its course, foundered on the rock of my calm; she tried to slam
The door on my rebuke, to let my words, on deaf ears fall;
But her own girl-quake, rebounding from my calm, hid her screams in its faults.

So she was silent.  I said, "I will not ever tolerate such faults,
Such blank defiance of my will.  I think it's time you yelled
Your sorrow and your promise to do better, while the strap falls
Sharply and often on your bottom.  You've been a very naughty child,
And must be punished firmly, must feel my strap upon your rear slam
Down, over and over, while you wish that you could run.

I had to let her know that I alone would now and always run
Our world.  And so I bared her bottom that her faults
Might be amended with stokes of the strap.  I let it slam
And drive right home her lesson.  Loud she yelled
"I'm sorry!" and "I will be good!" as every punished child
Yells out its sorrow and contrition, and lets its salt tears fall.

Her bottom red and burning, she winced each time the strap did fall
Her body limp, I felt the lesson's course had run
And stopped the strapping.  "Hush, it's over, child.
You are forgiven your defiance, and been punished for your faults
Your stomping, and your tantrum, and the nasty words you yelled.
Come hug me, and on this sad event, we'll let the past's thick door quite firmly slam.

I punished for defiance and for faults, for tantrums like those of a naughty child
Until she showed her penance -- 'til she yelled and let her tears of sorrow freely run,
And let her anger fall.  Then I forgave, and hugged her with a slam.