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