(*)the Hat That Fits Poem by Sailing to windward

The hat that fits the head that shakes
knows not the warmth that nodding makes.
The shirt worn on the back that turns
knows not the joy that friendship earns.
Grimed boots not at the threshold left
risk spreading dirt to neighbour's weft.
The blinkers worn to shade poor eyes
produce a view that some despise.
The shoes that walk through life alone
know not the strength from love or home
and gloves, left on when shaking hands,
deny the touch of truth to man.