The sock funeral by Gwendda McKay

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Where do they go, those missing socks

Who’s widows wait in an odd-sock box?

How did they miss the drip dry spin?

Did we toss them out?  Did we leave them in?

Are they stuck in a maze of hoses,

Never again to warm our toeses?

“Lost in the wash,” it’s gen’rally said,

Perhaps it actually means they’re dead!

Alas and alack, they never come back,

They never come back,

They never come back.

 

Cheerful version:

Where do they go, those missing socks

Whose partners wait in an odd-sock box?

Tired of warming people’s toes

They’re off to a land that no one knows.

Reds and blues and stripes and spots,

Greens and yellows and polka dots,

Dancing away to have some fun

Leaving our feet with only one.

Alas and alack, they’ll never come back,

They’ll never come back,

They’ll never come back.

 

Source:  Beetle Soup: Australian Stories and Poems for Children compiled by Robin Morrow (Scholastic Australia, 1996)

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