<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Leda plucks a swan<\/strong><\/p>\n Old now, the body that enchanted him <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Jill Sharp<\/strong> is a member of Poetry Swindon and her poems have appeared most recently in the Morning Star, Mslexia, The Interpreter\u2019s House<\/em> and the Orange Coast Review.<\/em> Her pamphlet, Ye gods<\/em>, is published by Indigo Dreams.<\/p>\n Note: First published in\u00a0 IMPpress<\/em>, Issue 3<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Leda plucks a swan Old now, the body that enchanted him grown coarse, how could he know her? Yet she knows him, this creature, even with fallen wings, eyes empty of desire. Not hers. She\u2019s spent a lifetime finding what he stole from her, doing it like he did, without her chance […]<\/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":[139,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8845","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-2015-poetry-picks","category-prose-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8845","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=8845"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8845\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8849,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8845\/revisions\/8849"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8845"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8845"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/inksweatandtears.co.uk\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8845"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\ngrown coarse, how could he know her?
\nYet she knows him, this creature,
\neven with fallen wings, eyes empty
\nof desire. Not hers. She\u2019s spent a lifetime
\nfinding what he stole from her, doing it
\nlike he did, without her chance
\nto touch him, or raise her eyes to his.
\nThat\u2019s why, holding him in her lap,
\nshe takes her hand to him
\nand in a storm of whiteness
\nscatters his power of flight.<\/p>\n