Where Does The Other Sock Go?
by Julie Bliss Owsik

Grown-ups do laundry every day,
neat and tucked and put away.
But every now and then we hear,
the words the dryer's come to fear
Mom or Dad will groan, "oh no,"
Where did the other Sock go?

They look the dryer up and down
and search the room with one big frown
They search and search with all their might
Our silly Sock nowhere in sight.
Now I think it's time we know,
Where does that other Sock go?

A Sock can be a sneaky thing, as any good pair knows
because a pair is not a pair, when just one sock goes.
It hitches rides on other clothes, and with their help can go
where other clothes spend the day, moving to and fro.
Without a shoe to hide their toes or cramp their merry style,
A Sock can go good and far, and travel many a mile.

A sock can be purple, bright red, orange, or blue
A sock can be old, or a sock can be new.
They spin like a rainbow while they get dry
and one, only one, finds a way to get by.
It just isn't there when the laundry is done
And then two socks is down to just one

So Sock hops on a coat, a shirt, or a sleeve
and sticks there like glue 'til it's time to leave.
The back of a jacket is always quite good
as nobody thinks to check under the hood.
So off Sock goes on a crisp autumn day,
without a big sneaker to get in his way.

The world looks different up toward the skies
with no big shoes to hide his eyes
Why he can see the clouds and sun
Apples grow and children run.
Suddenly, there's a brisk fall breeze
And off he goes into the trees.

The trees blow left, the trees blow right
and off Sock goes in airy flight
Then sure enough a soft breeze blows,
and gently down our red Sock goes.
But where he lands is not the same
This is not from where Sock came.

For when Sock lands and looks about
He's not near home, there is no doubt.
Sock hears strange noises, a roar and splash
Things calling, crawling, and big hooves dash
Big beasts that grumble, snort, and coo
Oh my goodness, Sock's at the zoo!

He looks up to see many birds overhead
Nothing too big, nothing to dread
But Sock didn't see what was coming near
Scooped up he was by a big white bear!
The bear liked Sock's color and the feeling so soft,
but soon he grew tired and tossed Sock aloft.

The wind kicked up over that bears' pen
and our red Sock was off again.
"This time I'll be careful where I land"
"This time I'll try that nice white sand."
So gently down on a beach he lay
with starfish, seagulls, and clam shells to play.

Soon he began to feel all wet inside
Why he'd forgotten about high tide!
In it was coming and he'd need to go
Or head out to sea and then sink below
That didn't sound like the right thing to do
So Sock squirmed up-shore to find something new.

It wasn't the summer, no people about
he wasn't quite sure just how he'd get out
The beach soon was coming to its' sandy end
A little bit scared, Sock needed a friend.
Why up ahead…hey! Was that a small boat?
"It's white, and there's water, and I see it can float."

But boats don't have feathers, and they sure don't talk
They don't swim with webbed feet and I'm sure they don't squawk
And this little pond's not so scary at all
Not like those big waves in the middle of fall.
"Hello," said Sock, "I'm out all alone"
Why hello," said Swan, "this is my home."

"It's very lovely," Sock said, "yet a little too wet
Not the best place for me, I'd be willing to bet.
I'd love to lie down, maybe rest for awhile
but I live far away, perhaps more than a mile."
"Well lucky for you I can fly with great ease
I'll take you home, if that's what you please."

Swan said, "Jump on, and have that nice rest
Flying around high is what I do best."
And Swan flew Sock back to from where he came
Where soon things began to all look the same
When Sock saw the house with the old clothesline out back
"There!That's mine……time for you to unpack."

So Swan dropped him off gently and said goodbye too
Leaving Sock there, really quite good as new.
He hung on that line in the soft autumn sun
back at the home where he had begun.
Now the next time you're asked I'm sure you will know….
Where, oh where, does the other sock go?

Copyright May 2006 Julie Bliss Owsik

Julie Bliss Owsik lives with her husband of 25 years, Ed, her two sons, Alex and Erik, Golden Retriever Toby, and 3 cats, Kato, Wolfgang, and Nike. A graduate of Boston College, Julie still loses socks all the time.

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