She flew into a rage when her knickers went astray
She'd hung them on the line but they'd gone missing yesterday
Maybe they had blown away, as there had been a storm
She had no spares that she could wear, and it wasn't very warm
She had to 'go commando' and a chill was in the air
And only yesterday she'd had a haircut way down there
So a draft up to her anus and her very private place
Has left her with a chilly snatch and anger on her face!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem