Oz Ain't My Dias Poem by Granville Holt

In Kipling's saintly silence made of stone
Young Rudyard's gigantic 'IF' on us throws
It's stately shadow, as only He knows
The Truth, and to mere mortals stands alone
The Poets Poet! This would-be rube shows
Vain wonders of his hand, all doubt be gone
And by such slight shall he soon disclose
What the wise did miss, 'en old Babylon.

Lets muse a bit while reader may express
His wonder like ours mid wilderness
Of Yellow Brick Road, holding awe in chase
To fit each fragment or to dumbly guess
Which meaning might lay hidden in this place,
Souls labyrinth, to save the human race?