Mocking My Painting Poem by Naveed Akram

My painting mocked my brush, many layers,
Bent on cleverness, as well as greed and glee.
I have a table where the orchestra of colours
Result in happiness, of the wooden joys.
My book is my resolver, a familiar compartment,
The worse weather of winter and summer.
Please then drink my coffee so felt by my words,
The very same glass beads roll on my feet.
This is courtly, this is jealousy from a hundred spheres,
By the mocking stars in my entered universe.
Let numbers comply to my wishes of colour,
So that I stand and conduct numbers once again.
May a composition glisten and conquer with words,
May a formula beam on minds with endeavour and numbers.