With Socks

‘With Socks’

With my socks on –

even if they are not on show –

I know

that no harm can come to me:

They give me superhuman powers.

They also stay fresh for hours,

and help cushion my feet from the pound of the road.

Ancient Britons, all painted in woad, wore socks.

The Testament Shepherds tending their sheep wore them, too.

People have worn socks from Aberdeen to Crewe

with never a toe

Peeking through.

Socks with holes in can be darned:

but, wearing them like that can be uncomfortable – you have been warned.

It’s debatable

as to whether they should match

or mismatch;

through choice or perchance;

the populace lends it’s voice

to the swelling debate

of ‘wear what you find!’,

or ‘find one sock’s mate!’

It is said that socks are monogamous,

they pair up for life:

but, this theory has been disproved,

a sock can have many a husband

or many a wife;

and outrage at a mixed-sock marriage

is rather passé, you see;

anyway, it makes no difference

to a non-socksist, like me.

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2 responses to “With Socks

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