Lilac bloomers piped with green
Not the best stitching you’ve ever seen
The shaking head of the sewing mistress
Judging my efforts with sad distress.
She left the room, I donned the knickers
Can-canned on the table in my kickers
Then pranced along with modish ease
Unhemmed they reached down to my knees
Miss Gibb returned, her face pictorial
To see my shocking show sartorial
With visiting padre and members of staff
All frantically trying not to laugh
Shamed face all rosy with a blush
My classmates in a pregnant hush
Ready to scorn what they had applauded
I descended. Miss Gibb just nodded.