In Grenada, all visitors know the handsomely-uniformed policemen who direct traffic through the narrow streets and crowded intersections of St George’s. But do the Policemen know what emotions they stir in the hearts of passers-by?
Sharon Almerigi falls in love with a Grenada traffic cop
In Grenada, all visitors know the handsomely-uniformed policemen who direct traffic through the narrow streets and crowded intersections of St George’s. But do the Policemen know what emotions they stir in the hearts of passers-by?
I’m in love with a traffic cop,
he’s tall and lean and cool.
My heart is sitting on my sleeve,
and I feel like such a fool.
He moves the traffic with a maestro’s flair,
uphill, downhill, anywhere.
Watching him, I can’t resist,
but he doesn’t know that I exist.
I look around and realise
that others too are mesmerised
by graceful sweeps of white-gloved hands
from this dignified, decisive man.
He’s sure and quick, he has finesse.
Without him, streets would be a mess.
All drivers trying to be first
would shake their fists; they’d yell and curse.
There’s only one thing I disdain –
forgive me, sir, when I complain.
You see, I feel an apprehension
that I’ll never get your kind attention.
I know I’m just a passer-by,
but what can I do to catch your eye?
You look my way and then right through me.
MAN, HOW CAN YOU DO THAT TO ME!
I’m so upset, I just can’t cope.
I’m coming to the end of my rope.
I may be tempted to go too far,
and throw myself in front of a car.
But before I suffer bodily harm,
You’d scoop me up in your big strong arms.
All too soon my dreams explode;
you signal me to cross the road.