a woeful tale

"where are my sandles gone!?"
dear Zobe wails
distress well displayed
on her face.

"have you seen my sandles,
billy bob jones?"
"no, ma'am,
they've left not a trace."

"i lent them to you, then,
dear herman, my friend?"
"no, but i wish your young heart
i could mend."

"oh where will i find them?"
our Zobe girl cries,
where did i put them?
where do they hide?

look under your beds,
in the back of your fridge,
leave no stone unturned,
as long as you live,

for even this moment,
as homeward we go,
our Zo hath no sandles,
though she needs them so.