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From the edge of our atmosphere it flew
nobody knew the craft existed.
Invisible to radar screens out of sight
the spy plane didn't exist.
At the period in history myth or fact
then proof they lacked!

A plane flying at seventy thousand feet
thought an impossible task.
Designed to spy undetected at  this height
against their powerful old foe.
But the intrigue when they started to fly
a surge of UFO's reported in the sky!

Was this what pilots were reportedly seeing
and civilians on the ground.
Not alien but man made flying saucer craft
but maybe not all were!
Could it have been this secret spy plane
or something we can't explain!

Strange lights that change shape and colour
blending into one then dividing.
Triangular shapes seen all over the planet
often over groom lake!
So are they secret and developing planes
created on barren salt plains!

Is there a need for mankind to be very afraid
if we knew the secrets being made?

The Foureyed Poet.
The mystery of Area 51 past and present continues on! The Foureyed Poet.
As they stared through night vision binoculars
lights lit up the desert.
A dark silent shape took off at high speed
the base was cloaked once more.
They stood many miles away on a distant hill
their mission they had to fulfil.

Watching the secret and famous classified base
risking detection even from here.
Their time had not been wasted as they saw
amazing aerial acrobats.
From yet another top secret flying craft
zooming in an up draft!

Are there man made unknown flying objects
or is it an alien intervention?
Countless sightings over many decades
reported without confirmation!
What truths lay hidden beneath the sands
controlled by secret hands!

The centre of our attention is area fifty one
in the Nevada desert.
So much mystery of fact and fiction
intrigue deepens each year!
Nothing confirmed and certainly denied
what do they really hide?

The Foureyed Poet.
What strange object took off from the base that officially does not exist! The Foureyed Poet
That feeling of being trapped in his own home
unable to go far.
Alone and now afraid to pick up the telephone
why do so many ring?
I can't afford it he tried to mention
relying on his pension.

Yet the persistent aggressive and rude men
continued to phone him up.
Now in his seventies what could he do
nobody seemed to care.
Struggling to look after himself nowadays
on the elderly the villain preys!

So here he sat few visitors entered his home
almost forgotten by most.
Yet the calls continued to hound and pursue
they didn't listen to his words.
He had no money yet they continued to ring
treated as just a thing!

Yesterday he didn't answer the telephone
depressed he'd gone to the spiritual zone!

The Foureyed Poet.
The pensioner could not understand why he was always being telephoned to invest! He had no money yet it still rang! The Foureyed Poet.
In the sunlight the copse seemed fine
there had been tales.
Of ghostly sightings within its fencing
this was hard to believe.
Shadows cast as the sun shone down
leaves turning brown.

I had come on a field work investigation
requiring no equipment.
But observation of the sights and sounds
it was so natural in daylight.
Altering as darkness  took over at sunset
and that sense of threat

The copse began to feel cold and sinister
we had worked out a route.
With areas for each session to be held
many natural sounds filtered.
At least for several hours it was good
then before me a figure stood!


Now we felt confused nothing was the same
our planned route not there!
It became dense the dark solid and thick
wandering around in circles.
Ending back in the same spot we started
sad and downhearted!

Each thinking they saw shadows darting
as torches were aimed.
It was like the beams had hit a solid wall
trapped in another reality.
Spiritually our essence was draining away
we were here to stay!

Then within an instance it had disappeared
in the copse the air clear.
Shocked and unsure of what had happened
we just had to leave.
Back to normality of a starry clear night
shouting out with delight.

What each of us had experienced I have no idea
but in the copse an unnatural atmosphere!

The Foureyed Poet.
The field work paranormal investigation turned out far more sinister than we had predicted! The Foureyed Poet.
Through the barren ground there was hope
a tiny plant grew!
The drought wiped man from the earth
mined of all goodness.
Without water the human race declined
few were left to find.

Warnings ignored but the wealthy hoarded
while most were denied.
Rain became just a word in our history
so from billions alive!
Numbers fell to less than a hundred thousand
a child's cry a rare sound!

Two centuries went by the numbers dwindled
the earth like a huge prune!
Vegetation withered sand replaced fields
the seas paddling pools.
The survivors huddled in the many cool caves
the dying planets slaves!

Then that day early before the unbearable heat
two young humans saw.
Under a shaded rock overhang rarely visited
life they'd never seen.
How could it be growing in this dry soil
without water or toil?

Had nature at last regenerated starting to heal
the air seemed to blow.
A trickle of water bubbled up by the plant
the small group gathered.
Looking at the plant growing on barren land
each touched it with a hand!

What none knew was from an underground lab
in a secret city.
Genetically designed plants and creatures
were being unleashed!
Deciding earth's only purpose experimentation
before it's total deterioration!

Then the wealthy would move to a new earth
they'd found for their rebirth!
Even to the end the wealthy still won! The Foureyed Poet.
I once belonged to a paranormal group
just wanting to see a *****.
Sitting for hours in buildings in the dark
even in a country park.
At first it was fun and a fantastic team
but now a faded dream.

Plenty of investigations to get that thrill
but I am waiting still.
To see a single shadow or spectral entity
or was I too thick to see?
Being an ordinary guy the fun was gone
as technology came along.

From investigations as a tight working unit
technology became the remit.
And in the end I felt like a bystander
the equipment handler.
Unable to embrace the wonders of science
or it's clever appliance.

It must have been seven years I was involved
the problems never resolved.
Hoping for a positive and rewarding result
a little proof sought.

With regret that period in my life has passed
but a wider net is now cast.
My interest in the paranormal is very strong
and new adventures I long!

Thus my personal journey carries on!

The Foureyed Poet.
They said there was a drought water was short
not enough for domestic use.
At first declaring it was nobody's fault
it had not rained for a long time!
Committing an offence by using a hose pipe
truthfully was a load of tripe.

Water companies are making a financial killing
everyone encouraged not to waste water.
More fancy gadgets the public would be willing  
to buy water use multiplied.
As the buzz was building more on any land
telling us there was a demand!

Thousands of houses built was there a big need
statistics only the government held.
Groups tried protesting for it not to proceed
but fields were still built on.
Heavy rains came with more depleted drainage
so did the despair and rage.

A state of increasing taxes with nothing to show
more became classed as poor.
Communication with voters becoming very slow
the authorities had a strangle hold!
As the ban on a non existent drought dragged on
more doubters joined the throng!

Was there a danger of a growing national threat
from people against the elite.
Basking in luxury as the masses increasing in debt
the drought added more fuel.
Restrictions taking away their dignity it turned sour
there would be a defining hour.

Or is this just a modern nightmare tale?

The Foureyed Poet.
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