Xena

At the gangway she takes a right, away from drinkers and vagrants, her youngest suffers that plight, there's a Chapel alone, behind where the cruise ships lay, she heads towards it like Rome, her mind racing and alight, to reach that cool oasis, away from the tourist cries, she eyes their pressed clothes, they dance like wraiths, beneath the sun, in the gloam, stilled by her troubled mind, she avoids their laughing landscapes, constant dreams of golden skies, arrived she waits a moment, feels the Stone’s sweet glaze, scented candles at her shoulder, fires the ancient flame.

Wenna

Do we know how to give, will a lifetime of greed, bring the love we miss, do you sometimes wonder, if it’s in our creed, our gift to wonder, does love wear a feature, make us tremble at the knees, perfume, lipstick, high heels, and what about our lovers, with all their surly needs, in yellow nights of summer, pray tell us how to live, stroll bright days in weeds, if luck takes a trip, are we so encumbered, knowing just enough to see, to drag a stone or lumber, howling with relief ?

Valenciana

Summer clouds her blue eyes, she knows the uncertainty, love is the big why, what separates from her bones, stuff that makes her dream, is sight of water, a hero home, surrounded by impressive skies, she feels the pull of destiny, not some faded alibi, Our Lady says she’s not alone, with inchoate thoughts and schemes, the wind her great bellows, memory’s arc of scurried nights, a map, a bottle, all the wean, the thrill of troubled flight, she’s conscious that she’s bold, sees the line of harvest teams, hears the horses groan, better the sea .

Ummi

If he's happy let him go, this woman loved you, isn't that enough to know, you didn't treat him right, you can say that now, whatever those nights, he has another mojo, hair curled a dancing loon, can’t you see him flow, a mirror for your eyes, when you hear dogs moan, try to act wise, how he wears cotton clothes, why sympathise , with a man you’ve stolen, caught out of sight, sing a songbird's gruel, listen to the cock crow, hear his refusals?

Tamara

My day is just a swank, I dance in the tide, fresh and alive off Burbo bank, he kills me with his laughter, wants me as a bride, helps me ride another breaker, shakes his bony shanks, tobacco blue water on the tide, he’s a writer not a crank, I won’t say he’s famous, but his smile’s estuary wide, ships enter their channel lanes, his soul isn’t dank, who never left a mother’s side, neither is he a windbag, I could produce many Shamans, Medea would use the knife, why bother when you say, he’s mine tonight.

Sue

Miles beyond her district zone, love catches on the breeze, like a river on its bones, inflated or in despair, she cries when she pleases, if it's absent on the stairs, then neither is it gloom, to that other disease, iron bed tight and honed, where she stands and declares, she'll never release, that little doll of hers, why she’s leaving home, all the plans and secrets, brings a quiet celebratory storm, at times in her underwear, the yellow light of feasting, sometimes makes her scared, but she believes.

Rhianna

Tell me what was that time, when I kneeled to pray, sweating all the time, did you watch me rocking, arms like pipes in the rain, it’s not me who’s shocking, the poets of Loire Maritime, say God is never afraid, there is a love inside, my tears are unblocking, we pay just the same, you see the birds flocking, they exist in different climes, freighters ride on ancient lanes, twisting between their lines, is this what makes you mock, any choice but to remain, anchors weigh us like clocks, you will need my reins.