Tag Archives: #Socks

New Directions

I travelled Back

and Forth,

Socks

and Vest,

all four of the new directions.

From the top

travelling clockwise:

Forth,

Back Vest

Socks

… and a new Acronym

for you to remember these, is:

Fridays

Vary;

Saturday’s

Best.

So, now, you can eat

Shredded Wheat.

NB other breakfast cereals are available.

PS the Albert Hitchcock / Eric Lehman film ‘Forth by Forthvest’is an old favourite of mine.

23 Pairs

23 Pairs

I have 23 pairs

of socks

which are worn and holey;

I should throw some out

as I never wear them;

but, I don’t

as I am a hoarder.

I also have 23 pairs

of chromosomes –

who knew –

and these are probably worn and holey, too.

perhaps I should throw some of them out –

but, perhaps that is not a good plan,

sometimes you have to hoard

the wherewithal to be hu-man.

Cheesy Socks

Cheesy Socks

Are cheesy socks

a thing to you?

When removing them

do you go ‘phewwwwww?’

Does one sock smell

of ripe Emmental;

and the other of Stilton or worse?

Would a gas-mask be useful

In dealing with a pair;

whilst, on standby,

a recovery nurse.

The aroma so heady

of a stinky sock,

will leave you unsteady

and a nostril unblock;

if you find you’ve a pair

that reek of Boursin de Pied

it’s best that you incinerate them

for a year and a day.

The End Of Socks

Not my socks, nor my feet.

‘The End Of Socks’

You put

your foot

(either foot will do at this stage)

In one end

of one sock

(it’s easy to work out which end to choose –

making sure that the sock is not inside out,

or outside in;

and you are not already

wearing your shoes.

Insert your feet as far as they will go;

making sure that you stop

when the end

hits your toes.

The rest of the sock must be pulled back tautly;

until a smooth and attractive coating of the foot is achieved –

there is nothing quite as unattractive as a crinkled sock.

The sock top

‘May’ be turned over

if that is your thing;

but, please be remembering,

that smugness at your style

when the sock is hidden,

is a thing that is largely forbidden.

Repeat the exercise above

for the second sock,

unless you are truly avant-garde,

or you’ve had to lay down

after these exertions.

Regard your symmetry in a mirror

to check if all is well;

if there is a mismatch

it won’t be difficult to tell;

but, be careful if you have chosen different socks,

some family members will shun you,

and change all the locks;

Michael Rosen might even craft a poem about your singular feat (and that’s ‘feat’ with an ‘a’).

However, if all looks well,

your task is complete…

…as is this.

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.

Without Socks

Bear Feet

Bear Feet

‘Without Socks’

Without socks

I feel naked,

and everybody seems to be looking at me.

Without socks

I am shaky,

my coordination lacks focus;

and, I become clumsy.

Without socks

I am not properly dressed –

why did the good Lord create them so if I was not to have been blessed

with socks?

Without socks

education at school,

I would have turned out a fool;

why was there none for me?

Change-a-my-Socks?

Not my Socks!

Not my Socks!

He changed his mind
More often than I change my socks –
Which is not that often
To be honest with you –
So, it’s not really something
That I should bother mentioning(
But, you know me (at least a little)
I’m not one for beating around the bush
Or whacking Australian ones.

I’ve seen a few moons rise
(Well, ‘one’ lots!)
And a few sunrises (that was better)
And I’ve been round the block a bit
But, socks?
Okay, I haven’t really been counting…
But, who does?
(Yep, that was one of those rhetorical questions)
G:)

PS This was going to be about ‘him’ – but, I was side-lined by my thoughts! #justthewayitis