benlehman

This one is about warm fuzzy socks.

It's not an exact parallel to the fate of my own socks.

When april from winter's cold brings no relief
and chilly chills through walls and windows leak
the time has come to heat myself with tea
and wrap warm woolen socks about my feets

But what is this, I look, and do not find?
Not here, not there, my feet gain no succor.
Have fuzzy socks attained their own mad minds
And wandered from their home within my drawer?

Betizzied, I search all around my room
The aren't on floor below or shelf above
And just when I've resigned myself to doom
I spy them on the toesies of my love!

"Dear, when you want to borrow, please do tell."
"Oh, come off it, these socks are mine as well!"