Phoebe

The turn of lovely days, rouge her high cheek bones, a scimitar of alluring ways, the cafe's and the diners, shake out yesterday’s clothes, seek solace in others blindness, this is not to say, except inside her yellow home, she would tolerate a parade, where usual debts are paid, in cool bath robes, blue for the evening trade, our lady makes her case, wherever a light is shone, at fate that always strays, no matter if there's wine, no river can ever hold, the strength of someone wise, give to them who glow.

Olivia

Here's the question why, on the house phone, behind a wired facade, you shed uncertain whispers, a hushed magenta tone, light yet sorely twisted, the reasons your like this, flush within my core, like rain across the isthmus, the colours of the Argentine, you say you've been honed, to numb away the pain, then a lovers' face again, no one really gets over, a desolate time in jail, blue to your bones, you spell out certain names, blow smoke off a cigarette, offer up a moan.

Nancy

Strained to my bones, I struggle to explain, heart like a thunder zone, the turning wheel bus ticket, blown away by the rain, I leave lying helpless, laugh at why I’ve come, play the useless games, small wonder in this home, the foray of my visits, putting yesterday's blame, on methylated spirits, you bite on a ham bone, a ribbon of it escapes, ask to be left alone, the sea whipped Atlantic, a tornado for your rage, incarcerated are your lips, can you see it my way ?

Margarite

Don't worry if someone slips, this house of the spirit, an Ocean gale on your lips, let them engage me, take me to my limit, revive that twisted energy, tell it like it is , turn my bones to relics, those who know my kiss, escape with flags of prey, find love at every instant, make decisions under tyranny, a gap of middle distance, where thirst lies unhindered, rejoicing not yet finished, spent in minutes all your fleet, my dress that you unzip, , guided by moon’s effigy, you shall sail my ship.

Lulu

A sunny life is not for everyone, waves don’t always kiss palm trees, she isn’t that far gone, kids play on the sand, see her brown and lovely feet, to leave just like that, in lemon stripes at the pool, courted by a tender breeze, eyes like harvest moons, flame trails her headband, silver slippers from Seymour Street, she caresses mountains, and from a tiny back room, by a museums of the Beats, drinks whisky and misses June, when I take her hand, she is full of release, a perfumed contraband, just enough to kill me.

Kathy

Clattered steps in the evening, your steps echoing to a beat, bowing to an Atlantic breeze, other times a struggled moan, before a fretful swollen sea, a drumming racket all along, a wish, more than any dream, how different is my memory, I mean, does it trick me, with the smell of ozone, arriving from the Hebrides, laughter singing in every bone, our name is a scream, above a front door gently, what do you really believe, like an arriving boat, no one needs, your slouch towards home, a broken wheel.

Jamala

What's wrong with dreaming, and loving the sea, absent seasons, like luck or a number, dull anyone’s features, when love is a wonder, that's a good reason, for this time to seize, don't stand there bleeding, be hard on the cumber, thank the Redeemer, we can all fake plunder, bring a gentle ease, kick out in the thunder, if everyone’s free, the sun might shine longer, waves stay out of trouble, dance every double, even the Conga.