an Ode to Socks

So apparently over 50 people looked at my blog yesterday! That is big news for me, considering I started this thing not even a week ago.

Onto why we’re actually here.
This is a silly poem. I love that it is silly.

*Disclaimer: I know I called it an ode in the title, because it is praising something, but it doesn’t really follow the classical conventions, blah dee blah strophe and antistrope, hurr durr epode, Horace and Catallus are rolling in their graves, whatever. Suck a lemon, sourpusses :P. I had a stupid day at work, and this is one of my favourite poems I’ve ever written.

An Ode to Socks

Socks, socks, beauteous socks!
Fuzzy and warm, made to be worn,
Covering toes, everyone knows,
Lucky are those with socks!

Knee socks, black socks,
Argyle, tube style!
Don’t wear them with sandals-
That’s the source of scandals;
When feet are kept hot,
You know what you’ve got:
A lovely old yet grandiose
Solid or striped, spotted or bright,
Cotton, wool, synthetic or silk,
Unbelievable pair of socks!

Love a good pair of socks;
Simply divine, no holes in mine,
Styles are vast, without bombast,
Lucky are those with socks!

© Bridget Noonan, 2007, 2011.

Yes, I wrote this in university. I’m pretty sure I was procrastinating doing something and decided to have fun instead. Those who lived on or around the Barnyard floor will recall this was taped to my door for months, because of its inherent badassery.


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