Raspberry Thief

A rotten little raspberry thief,
Has all my raspberries eaten.
My raspberry bush, the poor drap thing,
Looks sore and very beaten.

Who could this rotten culprit be?
Leaving my bushes bare?
If only I could find him out,
And insist that he does share.

I had a thought I had an inkling,
It was time to find the someone.
Before my raspberries disappeared,
And I wouldn't even get one!

So I Crouched low behind the bushes,
Within the shadow of the house.
Hardly breathing, watching carefully,
As quiet as a mouse.

And who do I see creeping,
On everso stealthy toes?
A silhouette I recognise,
One all the family knows.

My son! I blurt, how could you?!
Do you have no shame?
Dear mother, he replied quite calm.
Any reason given would simply sound too lame.

You had them in abundance,
And of them I had a need.
So out I crept in the dead of night,
To satisfy my greed.

What could I say in reply?
What punishment deliver?
Was that a slowly sliding tear?
A lip that was all aquiver?

I let him go with nothing more
Than a few strongly chosen words.
I glanced back at my ruined fruit,
And chose to leave them for the birds.