Patricia Horn O'Brien

O.S.P.D.

December 12, 2018

 

The Chief ordered me, you know,

so who am I to say I won’t?  The Poet

Laureate’s specialty is slant rhyme

and something close to melody

so, here I am to write a tribute

to the Old Saybrook Blue who

guide us with the grace of Knights,

who dash about to keep us safe,

who smile despite their need,

(sometimes, that is) to lock us up. 

Who guide our traffic through

any maze of lights and cranes

and accidents. Who

save our lives when saving lives

is what’s in demand.  Or else

a smart salute, a hug, a Step Aside. 

Or if you’re feeling down, a nod. A smile. 

There’s:

Buckle Up;

Pull Over;

Step Outside. 

There’s The Ambulance is on its way.

There’s, Now, now, it’s going to be OK. 

There’s Get home right away.

There’s the hand to slow you down,

The hand to pick you up.  There’s

the assist across the street, whether

it’s to Monkey Farm or St. John’s Church.

Whether to a funeral or a high school dance. 

There’s more, I know, on foot

or in a Flashing Car.  There’s a wave,

A Step this way.  There’s …

well, let’s say it,  L   O   V   E,

whether tough or not.

 

Old Saybrook cops, you are

our good, Old Saybrook heart.

Old Saybrook cops, you are our rock.

 


                                   

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