by Jeffrey Murrell


A straight dirt road in the countryside,
All lined by hedges in cubic rows,
Parts fields from one another with neat lines;
You feel more peaceful than before,
Walking between night and morn,
Solitary and, perhaps, a bit lost.
It's cool, yet warm, and you're tranquil in thought.

A warm breeze blows from off the deep dark
From fields peculiarly, visibly clean
To soothe away the chill from off your arms
Under an indigo sky void of gleam.
Not the moon, nor a single star to see;
Just the pure black beneath night's veil,
An emperor you must obey and hail.

The massive shadow covers up the world.
Yet, there is light -- an ethereal halo
Which highlights all things in a lucent swirl.
So there is no blindness, there is no cold,
As time and space and vision unfold.
Strangely at ease, twelve miles from town,
Then you're alarmed by the absence of sound!

This stillness in the night hurries your pace.
Along with the strange calm, the breeze has died
As the moment of peace passes and fades.
What is happening in the ghostly sky?
A flicker, a twinkle, a pop -- a light!
Something glistening, sparkling, exciting,
Wonderful, but very frightening!

Orange fire from the black sea of space,
Drawing glistening lines, bright and large,
Like an alien spider spinning lace;
Curving light girders electrically charge
A globular skeleton as it's forged
In luminous mesh by out-world foe,
A sinister ball, evolving slow!

The enemy comes to molest the earth,
Daring an invasion on our planet!
The reconstruction is molecular
(Distance hindering speed of process).
Perhaps it will be caught by our forces.
Still incomplete, you can only run
And hope to escape to see the sun!