Mrs Prendergast's Underwear Poem by Phil Soar

I learned from old ma Prendergast at number 62
That playing tricks on neighbours was a naughty thing to do
I stole her coloured underwear from off her washing line
And when my mother found it, I told her it was mine

My mother looked at me the way a mother only can
She said that I was twisted, and an obstinate young man
She knew I had that underwear for reasons quite insane
And told me I should go to bed, and rest my anxious brain

Meantime she rang the doctor, and she asked him for his thoughts
All he could say was maybe I had thought that they were shorts
I fear that I knew all too well, the origin of those drawers
I'd watched the neighbour hang them out, while I was stuck indoors

Although my mother worried that I'd somehow lost my way
She let me keep the underwear, for just another day
She told me to return it, when I thought the coast was clear
Then she sent me back to bed, and she clipped me round the ear