Saul
The waters that run past Saul Junction,
And the Stroudwater Navigation,
On the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal,
Flow past Phillpott’s Warehouse and Bakers Quay,
And on past Gloucester Quays and High Orchard,
Above a submerged heart of darkness.
For down there in the muddied depths,
Lie the hidden profits of Thomas Phillpotts,
The plantation owner and slave owner,
And the hidden profits of Samuel Baker,
Merchant and slave owner,
Down there with the shackles and manacles.
Down there in the submerged heart of darkness,
Sits their slavery compensation treasure chest,
The bounty that paid for Bakers Quay,
And the development of High Orchard.
If you listen to the wind soughing in the reeds,
You might just hear the lamentation
Echoing from the Atlantic archipelago,
You might just hear the slave ships’ keening
Stretching across the black Atlantic.
If you stare into the depths of the waters near Saul,
Then, like Saul, you might see the world anew,
And glimpse that slavery treasure chest,
Down there in the submerged heart of darkness,
In the waters that run past Saul Junction,
And the Stroudwater Navigation.
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