Emotions are raw, Emotions are pure,
Emotions a disease, for which there’s no cure,
We use them in love; we use them in hate,
Not accepting the outcome, instead blaming on fate.

Emotions are love, Emotions are joy,
Emotions can break, like a discarded toy,
Emotions are anger, Emotions are fury,
Their venom explodes, like a page from a story.

Emotions are vast, yet also complex,
They confuse with their actions, be it kiss, curse or vex,
We take them for granted, we use them carefree,
We lock them away, and then let the world see.

We turn green with envy, when jealousy looms,
When love it appears, our heart loudly booms,
And when surely it does, as old anger arrives,
It brings pain and upset, as well as grief to our lives.

From earliest of days, our emotions we check,
If we give them free range, we become a right wreck,
When the mood hits us right, our emotions flow,
Just be careful of course, as to which ones you show.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation

The dawn she breaks, so calm and still,
Her wispy breath, the morning chill,
The morning dew, the land she’s kissed,
Her soft perfume, the swirling mist.

The birds all sing her playful tune,
To lift the fading night times gloom,
Her daily role, to ease our way,
As we prepare to face our day.

Her task begins, as the sun shall rise,
To force his way into our eyes,
Her daily chores, to her no bind,
As we begin our daily grind.

Her task complete, she greets the morn,
As we still struggle, that stifled yawn,
She fades away, as day grows bright,
Until tomorrow, to replace the night.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2013

What do I see when I look at you?
Your deep and mesmerising eyes of blue,
A warming smile to greet my gaze,
I long to hold you all my days,
Your voice so delicate and so soft,
As melodic as song from birds aloft,
Skin like silk, hair so fine,
Memories of when I last called you mine,
The day will come of this I’m sure,
When I’ll hold you in my arms once more.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2014

The song of birds, the sweet dawn chorus,
A melodic alarm, nature sends for us,
They chirp and cheep long through the morn,
Until the night as we start to yawn.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2015

A poem runs just like the tide,
What word comes next, I must decide,
With words as water, they ebb and flow,
But how it ends, I don’t yet know.

A title from film, or even song lyric,
A spark will light, and then I click,
My fingers type, the poem forms,
Be it still of night, or as day dawns.

I use my words to create a verse,
I’m always thinking, a blessed curse,
I follow no plan, I write off the cuff,
So pardon me if some seem rough.

I use these words to ease my woes,
Wound so tight, sometimes it shows,
My poems help to set me free,
Not always good, but always me.

The style that suits, I make them rhyme,
I whip them out in lightening time,
The inner me is in them all,
You read each one, you will find Paul.

I write for causes of which I fight,
My inner soul as dark as night,
I share my hopes, I share my fears,
With more to come throughout the years.

My children are my creative spark,
They are my light when it gets dark,
John, Isobel, Lydia, Emilia, Ben,
You inspire me onwards, time and again.

We all have things held deep inside,
A truth we hold, that won’t be denied,
The reason why my poems thrive?
It’s simple, my sweet children five.

© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2013