Strike A Spark Poem by Kevin Maroney

Snicker, rat, for soon I'll be more there at,
in my mind I'm as large as could be, there's no way to batten me,
Down through the hole shall I not go,
through the roof shall I grow.

My creative passion knows no bounds,
as from my anvil the hammer sounds,
each blossoming day, each blooming night,
Does my streak run burning, or leaking bright.

Blazing through the day, I take note most everything,
for later my memory yearns to spring,
as in this letter to my readers those,
to whom I write in such clumsy prose,
Friction gathers to strike a spark,
as I stutter, then fly swift, a lark.

Hark the gates, they open wide,
as from this ocean does such tender bide,
waves roiling, seething deep down below,
let something wonderful go,
as my ambition to create anything,
turns to something wondrous enough to sing

High to the heavens and deep down below
What, after my search, have I to show?