The socks in the drawer

Aren’t the socks from before

Only one I deplore

The other is velour

Yet when ferreting around

Hands delve, furrowed frown

Buried in my gown?

Or an unappealing mound

I’ll find one that fits

One layered over mitts

Argh. No joy, I quit!

This search is the pits

Yet when there are happily two

Identical twins, maroon

With an alpaca festooned

Over twinkling toes

I found the pair that match!

Finesse the life I snatched.

I may well need to catch

The feet, see attached.