Treasure Island

Lynne FincherSpringarden


Socks And Hairbrushes


Socks and hair brushes
Have a life of their own

In a secret kingdom
Where they all have flown

Its where the king of socks
Sits high on his thrown

And the queen of hairbrushes
Resides with her gnomes

Of all the socks between us
Not ONE match is the case

Thank God for Punky Brewster
She has saved us from disgrace

For we can now walk
With our heads held high

With unmatched socks
And our hair on the fly

Submitted: Saturday, March 22, 2014
Edited: Monday, March 24, 2014

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Topic(s): poetry

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  • Susan Lacovara (3/23/2014 7:01:00 PM)

    Quite the true observation...it not so frustrating, it would be hysterical....I am off to the sock morgue, the laundromat...where many a missing sock has met it's match! ! ! ! Bravo on your whimsy.....PEACE (Report) Reply

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