During my days of imprisonment

I often drew geometrical patterns

On the walls of my cell

That was until my pencil was confiscated

I felt alone in the world yet surrounded by friends

A kind prison guard later offered me a wooden dice

On condition that I did not vandalise my cell

I accepted and progressed to playing cards and later dominos

These I kept with my dice in a wooden box next to my Bible

When I was released I took a job designing orchards for my rich patrons

Who had forgiven me for my dishonesty