Sock song

I look at you and wonder,

how you came to be alone.

How one so warm and colourful

could curl up like a stone.

How underneath that tangle of sheets, and slips, and frocks,

a singular inconsequential lump,

was once a favourite pair of socks.

What happened in that swirling cycle

to wrench you from your mate?

What wicked tides and whirlpools

left you in this state?

Together you were powerful.

Ah, the mountains you would climb.

Your bond so close and comforting,

you always stepped in time.

So now I take you lovingly,

and stretch you out again.

I rummage through the baskets,

and search and search in vain.

The quest is long and arduous

but I know it’s worth the wait,

for a sock is just a bit of stuff,

until you find its mate.