A Thief Stole My Knickers
They hung on my washing line, how dare they take them

A Thief Stole My Knickers
I pegged them firm, I double-checked.
A stripey pair, a floral specked.
The wind was soft, the sun was high,
No reason for my pants to fly.
I blinked and just like that,
They vanished. Gone. Imagine that!
No note, no trace, no flapping sound,
Just shame where once they’d hung On the line
Now who would stoop to such a crime?
To swipe my drawers in broad daylight time?
A local rogue? A panty fiend?
A sockless man who’s grown uncleaned?
I hung them in my garden,
muttered threats,
Imagined them in stranger’s hands.
“Return my bloomers!” I declared,
To take my pants? How do you dare.
A cyclist passed with bulging pack,
I squinted hard to check the back.
Was that my lace peeking askew?
He pedalled off before I knew.
A washing pole was lying there,
A footprint stamped beside my line.
The evidence was thin, but clear,
Someone had crept quite close to here.
So now I guard each drying load,
Prepared to chase them down the road.
No briefs shall vanish while I spy
I’ve strung up bells one them
while they dry .
I look at woman now who pass me by
wondering are they wearing my knickers
Oh my word, Oh my.
I only hung them out to dry
bums so cold now I could cry 😭

About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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