My underwear takes many forms
Like boxers and a tee,
They’ve protected me from chafing,
And unplanned nudity.

I even have some lucky ones,
Print dragons in their lair,
But even those cannot compete
With my long underwear.

I was so skeptical at first,
No, “Underwear’s not long!”
But warmth and comfort would soon prove
How greatly I was wrong.

The cold Poughkeepsie winter months,
They froze me to a brrrrrr,
I tried my brand new long johns on,
And what a joy they were.

When needed a warm cuddle I,
Beneath my parka’s hood,
They hugged my body tightly then,
When nobody else would.

So I’m thermally protected
From ankles to the wrists
And I have hats and scarves and socks,
And mittens for my fists.

This layer will soon meet its end,
With spring comes sun and sports.
And in the summer they look strange,
Beneath my biking shorts.

But oh, ye cold ones, almost nude,
With chatterings of teeth,
The trick to winter happiness,
Lies one coat underneath.