Fara

Who removes the cast, do only children look to home, across the singing grass, The Café’ du Pris, why regret my tone , pray for the doctors release, Verde across the terrace, Campari , dark glasses, soda, visits here begin with a fast, deny the need, shield me from my woes, I aim to please, sourball summer Maria Callas, who am I to moan, whisky colours sooth my chances, sea birds screech and wheel, their nests are honeycombed, look again and believe, am I beyond this loan?

Emily

The poetes maudit, you always loved, keep me in the garden, is this what you call home, beside your son, who goes back to his mother, the one who scatters easy the fruits of men, while daylight fades released, 'I ache for a baby' I moan, what have you begun, to kiss when he’s gone, salt claims an early warning, maybe it’s a dry run, for your evening with me, dicey laughter comes in jolts, birds at dusk settle and thrum, is it by reading Whitman, my waters run

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.