The surface
Limericks , rhymes , ballads and love
For a time just dabbled
Deeper
The whimsically rhythm
Stretched into elongated lines
And metaphoric realizations
A few more shovels full
I'm knocking on the door to my very own sepulcher
My soul
A poked hornets nest of emotions
The next phase of literary evolution
A ticketed ride to an abyss
Laden in hopes and memories
Pain and sorrows
And sometimes bliss
Further deep
The shovel a muse ?
Past the seeds
And Beyond
Beyond the outstretched fingertips
of the growing roots
where shadows have overtaken the sun
and the only illumination
The sentiment of those
who can associate with the insight
The shovel works
each new pile of dirt
Just another symbol
Another phase , another remnant
Left behind, the progression
Of a love struck heart
And its creative expedition
Through the depths of expression
Poetry
My poetry,
From a brushing on the surface
Budding rhymes , watered limericks  
To the deep rooted secrets
Locked in a soul
And I guide to just how far
Ones writing has grown ....