Inspired by Neil Diamond's "Morningside"
A tale of when an old man died,
Of nights spent alone, and days that I've cried,
For my children

This poem is real, this poem is me,
Far from the person each one of you see,
Depression, emptiness, a life I can't flee,
For my children.

By mistakes a plenty, my life defined,
The gift I hold, verses from what's on my mind,
A tormented soul, with the words I've signed,
For my children.

Emilia and John, years spent apart,
Thinking back each night, tearing at my heart,
To go back in time, and correct from the start,
For my children.

Isobel and Lydia, off doing their things,
Watching them flourish, the joy that it brings,
Two ladies growing, in my heart it sings,
For my children.

And obviously Ben, my Junior Sharkbait,
My final reason to smile, this tiny wee mate,
Giving me purpose, keeping life great,
For my children.

People believe as a dad I am good,
But I've let them all down far more than I should,
And I'd change it all for a chance that I could,
For my children.

As a father I know that I truly am blessed,
I've five stars that to me, are simply the best,
With their joy, love and laughter, my heart is caressed,
For my children.

But when I die, truth is sad,
Not a child will claim the gift I had,
The words I write become my epitaph,
For my children."

Cinco Espiritus Creation 2018

Gentle child sleeping in my chair,
Stay sweet your dreams, free from care,
Rest your head from weary day,
Exhaustion borne from adventurous play.

Gentle child with breath so soft,
Into deep slumber, you have been lost,
Knowing nothing of years to come,
A dreamy smile, you're rarely glum.

Gentle child resting free,
Cast adrift on your dream filled sea,
I wonder what thoughts fill your head,
Tho' I know your imagination is well fed.

Gentle child I hear you snore,
A man as child, yet only four,
You stir from slumber, look of surprise,
Confusion and beauty I see in your eyes.

Gentle child drifts back to sleep,
Your dreams they call you from the deep,
An uncomplicated life, youthful simpleness,
The greatest time, the age of innocence.

Cinco Espiritus Creation
October 2017

I'm writing a poem of alliteration,
Promising perfunctory proliferation,
Rendering ragged rambling randomness,
Scribbling stupid spasmodic silliness.

Finding words requires a Thesaurus,
Collecting curses chirography causes,
Needs necessitate natural nuances,
Instead incredible imaginary influences.

This task is beginning to wreck my head,
Beating boredom before bed,
Wretched wistfully wandering words,
Agreeable arrangements absolutely absurd.

Keeping it logical is becoming a bind,
Maelstroms merging, mashing my mind,
Deranged, despairing, definitely diminished,
Fortunately, fudging finally finished.

Cinco Espiritus Creation
26/09/17

With elegance,
A Wordsmith interprets
In the exquisite,
Timeless language
Of poetry,

Delicately composing
Beautiful words
Into elaborate sonatas,
Each rendition A graceful,
Classical symphony.

With beauty and intensity,
Full of raw emotions,

Each wordsmith
Extracts their most inner-feelings
And intricately converts them
Into rhythmical compositions.

And this
Is the only fluent language
Their soul is able to speak...

Each sonata they release,
With wings,
Is individually mastered,
Impeccable, and unique.

May each Wordsmith
Never miss a beat,

And continue writing,
With poetic justice,
Their heart's rhythm
On every sheet.

***

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

Yes there are sharks in our oceans, and sharks in our seas,
Just as cars on our roads, and leaves on our trees,
Same as spiders in webs, and birds in the sky,
It is the way of the world and no need to ask why?

There's no need to panic, and no need to fear,
If you swim in the water, there's a chance they'll come near,
If you don't want to risk it, for fear of attack,
Then stay on the beach, with the sun on your back.

It's really quite simple, there's not much to say,
Tho many won't listen, as I hold no sway,
But if  you like to go play on the waves in the surf,
Just one note of caution, "You're entering THEIR turf"!!!

*Cinco Espiritus Creation
July 2017

If I knew then, what I know now,
My life would be so much different, and how!!
But if I knew then, what I know now,
Would mean life without my kids, which I  could not allow!
So my life of mistakes, and there's been quite a few,
Will just have to suffice, and I'll have to make do,
My life isn't perfect, far from it in fact,
But I still fight each day, and I'm reasonably intact,
Mistakes that we make, lead us down many roads,
But it's made me the person I am I suppose.

*Cinco Espiritus Creation
2017

The gulls give their cry, high over the beach,
As they scramble for titbits within their reach,
Scavenging around, for whatever they can,
And fine, tasty morsels cast aside by man.

Junk food wrappers and ice cream tubs,
Empty beer glasses from nearby pubs,
BBQ burners, dumped in the breakwater,
Put it in the trash fool, you know you oughta!

Waste, refuse, *******, trash,
BBQ leftovers, hot powdery ash,
A throw away society, so clearly we are,
With implications so deadly, both near and far.

The world on our doorstep, so varied and rich,
From lakes, rivers and streams, or even a ditch,
Fish, dolphins and porpoise, all live in our seas,
At the mercy of litter, cast adrift on the breeze.

Floating up on the surface, carrier bag jellyfish,
Eaten by dolphins, disappearing with a swish,
Pop cans a plenty lie strewn in the sand,
Lying in wait for a child's playful hand.

The litter we dump on those hot sunny days,
Takes it's toll on our wildlife in a number of ways,
Mistaken for food, strangled by waste,
By the trash we discard as we leave in such haste.

Picnics we carry for miles in the car,
But that trip to the bin seems a journey too far,
Such disregard for our wildlife, just doesn't seem right,
Just another trademark of the human parasite.

So when next on the beach, having fun in the sun,
Pick up all your litter, you could be the odd one,
Or all the dolphins and fish, and the creatures that slither,
Could sadly become just the ghosts in the river.

Cinco Espiritus Creation
2017