Arctic Sorbet

Giant peach overhead gone mad,
A power station at its peak.
Kooky as a silver cuckoo, despotic as Her Dainty Majesty.
Crackling bolt of heat, its sceptre.
Oceans boiling into seaweed broths
Tars frying themselves up into sesame crackers
Pebbles shooting out red streaks of firework
Oh what barbecue pit, what grill!
How jolly good would it be now, to have a serving of the fantastically sweet Arctic sorbet
By gum, oh, what gift to the tongue, what drizzle to the desert inside!
Sagos and berries and crystals of sugar,
Hailstones onto the waving inferno.
Crumbs, that'd make a whizbang of a sensation!
Giant peach, alas, giant in the sky,
Silky clouds, alas, carousel in the sky,
Fiddle-faddle if I must, but the sorbet spirit is in town thanks to you.