Carmen

There's times I wish, I’ve waited so long, on this wretched bridge, my taxi’s gone, now leave me alone, I’m not twenty one , what makes you think, I don’t know what I’m doing, getting jealous in drink, splashing on eau de cologne, the water looks cold, standing in the metal folds, let the moon shrink, my ship's coming home, curtains start to twitch, see me put lipstick on, an unsteady sojourn, to meet my splendid one, he’s majestic and swish, brown as an acorn. he’s my sailor dish, not just some old bojo.

Deborah

Do we think of others, while screaming down the phone, the cross we bear for mothers, pray for all of those, whose thoughts are blown, in forgotten summers' blue clothes, drums across a cornfield smothers, the dance we do alone , men flit like dung uncovered, we can only suppose, by water and lakeside pheromones, what they try to echo, our days filled with lovers, Guggenheim, Tate,Jazz trombones, throwing dice for trouble, our hands a signalled force, more than we ever know, a river runs its course, asks us what we know ?

Betsy

It’s hard to measure distance, looking down a bottle of beer, when you think it’s crystal, the tremble of your bones, a river washes clear, a time to be explored, the hawk above the rushes, now hunts across the weir, along fast tides of winter, are you my lover frozen, somewhere close to tears, when I say it’s over, knees and face seek penance, a trapeze of wasted years, your eyes like an infant, should I record each tone, of your faded artists gear, a memory in each zone, If I appear listless, silver cups my ears, I’ll try to be different, bring me happy years.

Anne

We stand with her remains, sworn at by the jetty, she'd lie awake awaiting trains, if she could hear our moans, would diss our useless levies, scatter instead holy water, thank these blessed days, neither disturbed nor easy, by a morphine driver’s flame, the manner of her tone, another Liverpool tributary, a voice calm without stones , more a silk worm trail, mass cards from yellow monasteries, a promise to return home, money given was not a loan, just as she crossed the estuary she’d never ask for more, we bow to the morning ferry.

Anne - The beginning of winter poems

We stand with her remains, sworn at by the ferry, she'd lie awake awaiting trains, if she could hear our moans, would diss our useless levies, drink instead holy water, thank these blessed days, neither disturbed nor easy, by a morphine driver’s flame, the manner of her tone, another Liverpool tributary, a voice calm without stones , more a silk worm trail, mass cards from yellow monasteries, a promise to return refrain, money given was not a loan, just as she crossed the estuary she’d never ask for more, we stand at the morning jetty.

Anita

Sat in a blue light, my lover dozes alongside me, I know everything is all right, sunrise over Cologne, Benny’s café serves mint tea, as good a vista as our own, warm clothes a decent fire, no iron kettle by a tree, we applaud the coming sky, salt cakes a global warming, swallows cheat an early need, birds sing in the combing, we exhaust a bottle of wine, it makes for a jamboree, brings us delight, will we return home, go back by boat and sea, I don’t think so, cold brown days pass by, we’ll work and save and be, everything we try to like, it’s so good in Germany.

Tanya

How do I take this scene, looking sweet on vodka, as if it will protect me, off my face with anxiety, mascara pushed down the sofa, eyes looking furtively, fix this place like a firefly, red and yellow dark cellar, her hand waves Hi, my greatest days contained, she loosens first my collar, we sit side by side restrained, she's a gift from the sea, brings me Rioja, at my next epiphany, doesn't bother with history, has neither sou nor dollar, explores my territory, I’m not going to stop her.