A drunk speaker fixes his attention on a woman's gloves, and the poem is over almost before it starts. In just five short lines, he turns those gloves into a church, and then gives it a sermon while he eats or drinks. The comedy is in the mismatch: something small, delicate and elegant becomes a building of worship, and the one preaching is slightly sloppy and not quite in control.
The speaker seems both smitten and a little ridiculous. "Home in" suggests he is drawn to the gloves almost like a homing instinct, while "sup" gives the scene a casual, bar-room or dinner-table feel. His sermon is probably more about showing off to himself than reaching anyone, since a church made of gloves can't really listen. The mood is playful, tipsy and tender, with a hint of loneliness underneath. He wants to talk, to praise, to be devoted to something, and the gloves are what he finds. The title, "Handy," adds a pun that fits the lightly joking tone.