O Lonely Sock Upon The Floor

O lonely sock upon the floor,
Seek you the sacred coves
That other socks of mine have sought,
Escaping, then, in droves?

I see you setting out, this hour,
To find those silver gates,
And join the other mismatched soles
Who no longer have mates.

So where, tomorrow, you will be
There’s none can truly say —
For many-a-stocking citizen
Becomes an émigré.

The day you find your freedom, we
Will mark what you achieved,
And never sweat you any more.
So you should feel relieved.

O lonely sock upon the floor,
We two are weaved the same:
We both are hanging by a thread,
And have life’s dryer to blame,

Which spins us and confuses us,
And deals us tears and knocks —
For though it’s just a cycle,
It is jarring, and

It socks

If I Was In Charge

If I was in charge, the world would be much worse.

Chaotic and unfair, but — lots of verse.

I’d outlaw cold, give everyone a goat,

A house and drawbridge, over their own moat.

It know that it sounds stupid, overlarge —

Perhaps that’s why I’m never put

In charge


Photo credit : ID 84752491 Talashow | Dreamstime.com

Irascible

So I’ve been called irascible
A charge that I find risible
I seldom carp
Or bellyache
And mostly am invisible

Yet I’ve been called a malcontent
I guess that’s true to some extent
But yet it seems
To me at least
My carping is a nonevent

For when I take to grumbling
It’s hesitant and stumbling
I’d never to seek
To show you up
Or subject you to humbling

But my complaints are few and small
I’m sure you find them passable
So cool your jets
And take a pill
And don’t call me
Irascible


Photo credit : ID 80714556 Giuseppe Fabiano | Dreamstime.com