• My drawings were of a whirpool of emotion,
    the beating down of rain,
    contrasting the summers commotion,
    to grow only the one bamboo cane.

    Yet yours were a tornado of ups and downs,
    lengths and numbers,
    The side of an frenzied crown.

    I always remembered that one fateful day,
    I asked "are you an artist",
    and you showed me a maths array.