~ The Poet's Place Cafe~

Socks
What do I see here on my floor?
Dozens and dozens of socks galore.
Turquoise, coral, aubergine…
Every hue of woolen skein.
Socks for work and sleep and play –
And each of them gets washed TODAY!
I can’t believe they’re piled so high,
But mine is not to wonder why.
My current task is: separate;
I have not time to hesitate.
I’ll segregate them by their colors –
Whites and darks and all these others.
Next, I need to spray this grime and let
These socks set for some time.
Then I’ll load them in the machine,
And let them cycle ‘til they’re clean.
Fresh from Tide and soft from Snuggle –
(The Magics of a cleaning Muggle),
I must now get my socks to dry,
(I think I’ll go with medium high).
The dryer spins, the dryer whirrs,
The dryer stops with a click and purr.
I grab my basket for my socks,
My fingers buzz with static shock.
Darn, I forgot the dryer sheets!
Well, at least the washing is complete.
Time to gather stocking pairs
And roll them with a little care
Into neatly yarned balls
To stack inside my sock drawer walls.