Peter Lewis Holmes Poet Verse

The Globe Tis Choked

Rid me of this damn corn,
the progeny of past laquered 
loves, its to, its fro, they lap 
like cats at milk, destroying all

Returning then to orange groves
and furnace fire/sing to me the 
song of could have been, sweet
orchard’s milk and valleys

The wiry sheen below the 
capstan’s turn, to anchor goes
the choking deep; all’s not well, 
fifty fathoms down

Now granted pure by nature’s leap, 
the sequinned, peppered snow,
from mountain’s irridesent yawning 
glow, descends to us in a throw, 
of sower’s hand!

Lilliput and Gulliver, side by side,
lead the band, and bring the sheaf
to altar bare: but quick!  

Before the earth be dead, and all
its winsome jewels to share

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