Oxford Bobby Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

He pounded cobbled pavements
On Oxford's narrow lanes
Tight uniform's enslavement
He wore with no complaints

On chilly winter evenings
His steely gaze surveyed
The hidden, moldy doorways
Where pub rats got waylaid

Time was when brewers prospered
Malt, beer and ale were king
On Cowley Road and Queen Street
Folks drank remembering
The days when old Sir Robert
Helped form a force of men
Called ‘Bobbies' in his honor
Protecting kith and kin

There is a bust that honors
A servant long forgot
Who kept his beat and duty
Tight as a Windsor knot

An unknown, obscure sculptor
Took time to shape and mold
An everlasting tribute
To Oxford Bobbies bold

He pounded cobbled pavements
On ancient, narrow lanes
Tight uniform's enslavement
He wore with no complaints.