When I was arranging daffodils <br />you send in tanks. <br /> <br />The sky was overcast. <br />When I was talking to clouds <br />Fireballs are delivered. <br /> <br />That signals the specific gravity <br />is shifting to knobs. <br />The artist was going <br />to disappear. <br /> <br />I think of faithfulls. <br />How beautifully they talk of <br />two moons. <br /> <br />I had decided to quit <br />when you send in a hymn.<br /><br />Satish Verma<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/contraptions/
