Was it a Painting?

Did I write a poem called “Pieces of Sky?”
Apparently, the poem was well received, and I'm glad for
this boast to my flagging self- confidence.
The nearest I can think of pieces of sky are mountain lakes
which mirror the sky when it is blue and the lakes ditto.
This happens in Tibet or thereabout when the mountains
scrap the heaven and pieces fall off.
In the holes they make you can see forever, before unseen
hands **** the sky into blue velvet,
that is ok, you are not meant to know everything
and become a tedious know-all.