“Which witch watched which witch wash which wash while washing which wash?”
What if I could be a witch?
Now wouldn’t that be quite a switch!
It just makes me want to twitch
So from this thought I will unhitch.
A witch I know I’ll never be
In real life or in reverie
With tight shoes or lobotomy —
It just is not a part of me!
So I’ll tell of another “which,”
Which in use has its own niche
A simple sentence to enrich
But oft is written with a glitch.
Do I use “which,” or “ who,” or “that”
When talking ’bout my lazy cat
Who sleeps all day upon his mat
And will not chase a single rat?
Should a comma go before or aft’
Each which with which my lines I craft
As my sentences I draft?
It’s enough to drive one daft!
I must first create a list
And say of what it does consist
Before I ask which to enlist?
Or readers will not get my gist.
Someone said once you use which
You dig yourself into a ditch
For each demands another which
If you want a clause to hitch.
Which witch washes which witch’s wash
Should be she who does it with panache
And would not think the wash to slosh
As she cackles in her mindless tosh.
Hope you’ve enjoyed my thoughts on “which”
And have not found them senseless kitsch.
These shrewd words you dare not snitch
Or I’ll loose on you that other witch
Van Dyke, born and raised in Elizabeth and currently living in Piscataway, earned a B.A. in sociology at the College of Wooster in Wooster, Ohio. She has a teacher’s certification in Spanish, and a certificate in training and development. She worked for the USDA Food and Nutrition Service in Robbinsville as a senior food program specialist and officer-in-charge. “I began writing in my 50s and have been writing ever since,” she says.
