[Ann Drysdale]

May I suggest this poem by Kit Wright which seems to tick many of the aforementioned boxes:

Lead Like Leather

(to the direct metal sculpture, 'Harness', by Peter Greenslade

That lead should wear the muted sheen
Of working country leather, laid
At rest upon a barn floor, mean
The same slow-motion cavalcade
Of strap and buckle, seems to me
Triumphant in a simile.

I rub the leather's molten grain
And smell the linseed in the lead.
The soft Convergence of the Twain
Sinks pleasure deep inside my head:
I like it that the world should be
So veined with similarity.

All men, all things, be family.