This is the story of Nicky
And her knickers so shamelessly nicked
By a nasty knicker nicker
Who finally got nicked
Nicky was tired of her knickers
Which were tatty and shabby and grey
When she got her first weeks wages
She threw her old knickers away
Yes, Nicky bought new knickers
In red and green and blue
Because she’d got her wages
And wanted something new
Nicky wore her knickers
in the normal knickery way
And as one would hope, she wore
A different pair each day
At the end of every evening
Getting ready for the night
Her knickers went in the laundry bin
Tucked down out of sight.
But when she did her washing
And hung it out to dry
She realised a horrible thing
Which made her want to cry
Someone had nicked her knickers
She could see that her knickers were gone.
There was nothing left of those knickers
She’d so recently sat upon.
Now Nicky lived with a family
And two of them were young men
Nicolas was the older brother
And the younger one was Ben.
She couldn’t believe that either one
Would commit such a heinous act
As to nick her pretty knickers
So slyly behind her back.
Time went by as it always does
And her knickers were never returned
And poor little Nicky was saddened
By a lesson so harshly learned.
Life was never the same for Nicky
She decided she had to be strict
And stick with tatty grey knickers
To ensure that they wouldn’t get nicked
Now many years have passed and gone
And now she’s old and grey
And although it made her unhappy
She’s stuck to her rule to this day
But it’s funny how things can alter
When hope is all but gone
Soon for the first time in fifty-five years
Nicky will put her bright knickers back on.
Her brother he lives in a flat in a block
And Old Nicolas lives below
And her brother came to say to her
“There’s something I think you should know.”
“A knicker nicker’s been nicking girls knicks
Right off the washing line
And the police came along and arrested Nick
After all of this time
“And they found two bin bags of knickers.
He had kept hidden in his flat
And I bet that your knickers are with them.
What do you think of that?”
And now she knew for certain
Old Nick was the naughty nicker
Nick had knocked her knickers off
And Nick was the clothesline picker
He’d nicked those natty knickers
And kept them all those years.
Now knickerless, Nicolas has been nicked
For stealing things that belong on girls rears.
Now Nicky’s at the cop-shop
Identifying her rainbow pants
And as they hand them back to her
She’s trilling out her thanks.
Tomorrow she’ll have a secretive smile
Because no-one will ever know
That her brightly coloured knickers
Are fifty-five years old.
© Jane Paterson Basil