It’s not a pile of laundry, freshly cleaned and smartly pressed,
To Tom it is a mountain face containing eagles’ nests.
He’s going to have to climb it, risking life and limb and more,
Even though he’s been told off for climbing laundry piles before.
It’s the Battle of the Khyber Pass, the Everest Assault,
There’ll be landslides full of knickers, there’ll be sock and panty falls,
But he’ll struggle on regardless, through the pain and heat and hurt
Until he finds the teetering summit, where he’ll throw up on my shirt.