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GWEN'S KNICKERS ©

Tom Barker
Joondalup, Australia

I'm going to tell you a story,
of a very unfortunate Gwen.
Who liked her wine and champers,
but always forgot to say when.

The boys always watched as she sashayed
swinging hips down the main drag.
And if any of them dared get cheeky,
she would thump them wi' her bag.

It was on a Monday morning,
and Woolworths were having a sale.
When Gwen spotted some bloomers,
they looked like they might fit a whale.

So pushing until she could try 'em,
Cos they looked just about her size.
then struggling over t' counter,
to lots of curses, screams and cries.

She finally got herself settled,
at home in her favorite chair.
And ripping the string off the parcel
a scream suddenly ripped through the air.

Somehow her parcel had got mixed up,
with some bodies boy scout tent.
Cos all over the floor an' reachin' t' door,
were canvas and tent poles all bent.

Determined to have some new knickers,
cos her old ones were so full of holes.
Gwen refashioned canvas to bloomers,
and did away wi' bent poles.

Then dragging out her old Singer,
Gwen changed the needle for nail,
Cutting and crimping and wi'out scrimping,
she admired her new knickers so pale.

Now when our Gwen goes out a courtin'
or laying flat down on the grass,
No one can get into her knickers,
cos they is done up wi' buttons of brass.

Now Gwen when you get some new knickers
Remember if you are a bit butch,
Don't settle for boy scout tent canvas,
and just make sure they fit at the crutch.


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