Where, O where have you gone, Lost Sock?
At the bottom of the clothes basket, I found you not.
I shall miss your soft texture that warmed my toes,
as well your vibrant hues that did delight mis ojos.
Have you gone off in search of fellow wanderers?
The land-o-lost socks beckons far too many.
Please greet my beloved, rainbow-stripe toe sock
Though decades have past, it’s departure I still mourn.
Did you lose sense of purpose, my Friend?
Were you stepped on too much?
Did the sock drawer smother your significance?
Or, was it washer-and-dryer vertigo that cruelly manifest?
Where, O where have you gone, Lost Sock?
Alas, the search continues around the clock
High and low and under and behind.
Your twin and I await, O Lost Sock of mine.
If you throw the odd sock out… the missing one turns up LOL
I see it is a global phenomena. :)
Oh my gosh I am cracking up! Every. Single. Load.
Who would have thought this ever-so-common experience would motivate poetry? But here’s another! http://www.loc.gov/poetry/180/008.html?loclr=lsp1_rg0001
Thanks for the grins!
Sometimes these mundane tasks do indeed bring a burst creativity in us. Thanks for the link to “Numbers.” What a fun look at the numbers… and the one lost sock!
I loved your explanation for all the lost socks!
I do believe that the land-o-lost socks has many residents! Thanks for stopping by, Debbie. :-)
Ha! The story of my life. Love it!
So glad to know there are others in this quandry, Julie! :-)