In the drawer they quietly lay,
Soft and snug, in hues of grey.
Guardians of toes from the chill,
In their warmth, time stands still.

Through morning’s rush, they are there,
A gentle hug, a whispered care.
With each step, they cushion dreams,
Stitching comfort into seams.

Evenings wrapped in their gentle clasp,
They hold the stories we often grasp.
Silent solace beneath our shoes,
In their presence, we rarely lose.

Faded or bright, they serve with grace,
Protecting feet in every place.
Oh humble socks, in pairs or lone,
In your weave, we find our home.