An Ode to Great Socks

A dear, dear friend saw me in the socks I was wearing the day I experienced "Freedom in Freedom Park."

In response to my hosiery, she wrote a poem - which she describes with these words: "A spontaneous (if not quite laureate worthy) poem for my friend.
Who makes me bug off to museums on beautiful days to enjoy life and love."

Yup, that day began with a walk through the park - which was followed by lunch with my friend (who wishes to remain anonymous), a walk through a fabulous exhibit at the local museum of art, and a lovely chat in the museum parking lot. 'Twas a great day, indeed!


Here it is.


Great Socks

...are hard to find.
Perfect fit
Colors to match every mood.

Sometimes they just get the job done- no sweaty feet in those shoes

But sometimes they ride high- just under the knees or creeping up a thigh
These are the socks that make socks great
Sure they do the deed- but with style.

Socks that speak.
Give voice to your mood
Or shape the mood in your voice that day

Love me
Look at me
Don't mess with me
Want to play?

You wear your socks with gusto
And make me reevaluate the thin, worn out, holey mess that is my footwear

What are you wearing under there?

Life is short
No time to sink down around the ankles
Or ball up in the corner of a drawer
It's time to stretch out!
Cover the ground that we were made for!

And we were made for pairs
Or quadruplets
Or whatever you fancy

But we go together
That's the idea
Great socks know this well
So wear them proud and feel good doing it
Those socks have got stories to tell