It's true. I don't think I'll ever tire of making socks. I love them so much that I made up a cheesy poem:......................................................................................................
Ode to Socks
Socks how I love thee,
I can never get enough.
From the tips of your toes
to the top of your cuffs.
You are my foundation, my past-time, my love.
If I mess you up,
you can always be a glove.
You’re cheery & warm, comforting & true,
Whether solid or stripes, variegated or blue.
How subtle & mysterious or outrageous you can be.
Oh socks I just can’t get enough for you so captivate me.
There are so many ways that we work this land,
Whether on sticks: straight or double, circular, machine or hand.
You are portable and compact;
the perfect travelling buddy.
Plain, textured, bulky,
or a little bit nubby.
How can I express how much you mean to me,
For I just can’t get enough or stop making thee.
by Kym Ranger (aka Boop) Jan.3, 2007.
..............................................................................................Peace out, Boop
3 comments:
Great poem. Socks look amazing.
MIL
Like these! All that, and a poet too?
oops...meant to ask...hand or machine?
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