Howard Osborne Poet Rhyme

THE ODD SOCK

THE ODD SOCK

There we all were, waiting to be let out
From that long spin wash and tumble dry
Now we are a heap of socks on the bed
They’ll match blue and blue, red with red
Pairs tucked together, I don’t know why
A mate is missing, and there’s no doubt

I am unclear what my future may be
As one odd sock, laying here alone
A search may begin but not be found
Left behind in the basket, I’ll be bound
If I end up solo, my situation’s blown
None will bother solving the mystery

I’ll be waiting with growing anticipation
Unless they decide to abandon the search
My partner just like me, is a dark maroon
And I hope that he’ll be found very soon
I really hate being left here in the lurch
As one odd sock has limited application

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