<\/p>\n
Novice<\/strong><\/p>\n She is just sixteen, and clings plump as a duck, or a goose Papa delivers fish, wine, and the sisters question such a child could ever learn Mother scolds her when she forgets to drop her gaze, around a statue. Therese Even now, she\u2019s working her young soul proven <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Sarah Law<\/strong> has published five poetry collections (the latest, Ink\u2019s Wish<\/i>, with Gatehouse Press in 2014) and is currently working on another about St Therese of Lisieux. No saint herself, she lives in London and teaches for the Open University and elsewhere.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Novice She is just sixteen, and clings to her pillar of faith, plump as a duck, or a goose stuffed with buttery prayers. Papa delivers fish, wine, fur-lined boots, to the convent turn and the sisters question (after their silent supper) how such a child could ever learn the art of suffering on her […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14430","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14430","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14430"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14430\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14431,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14430\/revisions\/14431"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14430"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14430"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14430"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nto her pillar of faith,<\/p>\n
\nstuffed with buttery prayers.<\/p>\n
\nfur-lined boots, to the convent turn<\/p>\n
\n(after their silent supper) how<\/p>\n
\nthe art of suffering on her own.<\/p>\n
\ndrops her cloth, broom, fork \u2013<\/p>\n
\ndelights at a play of light<\/p>\n
\nkneels and kisses the floor.<\/p>\n
\non her heart\u2019s first draft,<\/p>\n
\nand rising like dough.<\/p>\n