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