The Olney poems
1
So through the dark
A recalled reality touched
With the unsteady ease
Found in the debris
OF some lost self
Stood there and waiting
A look of accusation
That stroked our conscience
2
The space of slavery
Carried the forelocks acceptance
Dip the guilty finger
in times Holy stoop
Congratulate our present freedom
of these presented blessings
A forelock touched again
The game plays on
3
And make the lace
To continue a life
Intricate Fragments of desperation
Provide an incidental decoration
A price so agreed
To enjoy a flower
And share the light
Of the communal bounty
4
Cowper brushed his teeth
Daily we passed by
Newton climbed his pulpit
We preached the land
They wrote their hymns
We escaped with drink
Today the forelock touched
Respecting their entwined lives
5
God roams his garden
With dances of creation
Proclaiming the ever paradise
With an outstretched hand
Inviting our forelocks touch
The fruit still entrances
Our obsessed nudity declines
From its cultured slavery
poem by Michael Oliver
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