The homeless person

You who never knew a home
Never feel quite free to roam.
Fall into your cosy bed.
And roam free in your dreams instead.

A friend who never texts you back
Cares not that he care may lack.
‘T is a proof that he would rather
Be self absorbed than do a favour.

If your husband gives you money,
Sends you out to buy more honey.
‘T is a proof of his sweetness.
Therefore goodnight and may God bless.

Geometry ,my foot

If you love me as a whole
You’ll love my feet.
They are bent into strange shapes
Quite mathematical.
A right angle at the base of my big toe,
A parabola under my arch
Semi circle of heel.
There are no straight lines here.
Euclid’s geometry’s no use for this surface,
And its several dimensions.
Riemann is the one for me.
His theory of the curved nature of space
May have been based on
A loving examination of a woman’s foot.
An ant has no trouble making the passage
From left to right.
How could have anyone believed
The world is flat?
I walk along the shoreline of my mind
To see what treasures
Dreams have cast up,before
They sink back into the sand
Trickling through my fingers
Like time itself.
As Blake saw Eternity in such a grain
What would he think of
Holkham Beach?
Miles of pale sand,facing direct North.
Whereas for you,my lover,
I am your Magnetic North,I hope.
Time to make progress
On this art:
“Sketch your own foot.”
But will anyone believe this
Lunatic script.My feet were made for
Someone who lived up a tree,
Not for Manolo Blahnik shoes
And heels.
Take me to the zoo,
I’ll meet my own kind there!