Monday 28 January 2019



Delores set the subject for this week's Poetry Monday. Trot along and see what others have posted here and here.

 Bought in pairs, carefully matched,
All is well until wash day
And then
My washing machine becomes
A court.
Couples enter together
Then leave.
Sometimes they are reconciled,
Sometimes they part for good,
But always,
When I’ve thrown out the odds,
Their partners turn up sneering.

And did you know that some shops
Sell pairs of mismatched socks?
Strangely they seem quite perfect -
The look rocks,
Not like my drawer of oddments,
My efforts to pair them
Ever mocked.
Is it wrong to wear odd socks?
For some it’s a fashion choice -
But inside me a little voice
Always says,
'They don’t match.'


  1. I agree, socks should match. Luckily for me I've never lost a sock. Nice poem.

    1. Thank you, River. How have you managed to never lose a sock? I am in awe!

  2. Hi Janice - no idea how things get mismatched up but they do ... but love the expression in the poem ... cheers Hilary

    1. Thank you, Hilary. It's so irritating, isn't it?

  3. I keep my odd socks in one corner of the drawer and sometimes, somehow, the mate will show up for one and, whoopee...I have a pair of socks again. This is a fun piece.

    1. Just one corner of a drawer? My odd socks have half a drawer to themselves.

  4. Well done! I didn't realize you had written a poem; just came here after seeing your comments on my and Delores' blog. I like your comparison of the washing machine to a courtroom :) And I try not to throw out single socks because of the very thing you said about the absent one showing up!

  5. There should be a Lost Sockery . . .


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