Description
Polyhymnia in blessed cloak and veil
meets me early at math class.
We sing our paeans to Euclid;
pump out proofs; study projective,
hyperbolic, inversive; work our exercises
in meditative and ecstatic state.
Water nymphs creep out
from behind the white board and gambol
neatly around us as we work.
The poetry of Mathematics is never lost
on me. I have slurped from the Fount
of Helicon, and I know the pleasure
of metrical speech. I build poems
into my pleasant Geometries.