When I was arranging daffodils
you send in tanks.

The sky was overcast.
When I was talking to clouds
Fireballs are delivered.

That signals the specific gravity
is shifting to knobs.
The artist was going
to disappear.

I think of faithfulls.
How beautifully they talk of
two moons.

I had decided to quit
when you send in a hymn.

Satish Verma

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/contraptions/