House-The Entry!

The house stood like a blot on surrounding lands

as a group of teenagers intensely stared

in unity plotting a plan rubbing their chilling hands

they would investigate a decision shared

two boys and two girls of the same age nineteen

determined to go as eyes watched unseen!

 

Petrified to cross the boundary held hands outside

came some distance from their homestead

laughing with a perverse sense of fun none did hide

realising soon some could be within dead

had cameras torches and recording devises to hold

on entry noticed it had suddenly got cold!

 

No turning back now from this unholy inner sanctum!

 

TheFoureyedPoet.

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Sky People!

Upon the vast reservation a beautiful delight

scary in light more at night

orbs of all colours and sizes fill the skies

those gazing it did hypnotize

part of the native american culture embraced

with their lives this was encased!

 

Always welcomed upon the sacred indian lands

no fear on plains or grasslands

sky people part of their history they share

with pride are prepared to declare

military interaction not allowed on reservations

nor need for secret observations!

 

Here part of the fabric of each ones existence

with an unspoken reverence

do not hide any secrets nor create false trails

unlike the free world telling tales

where the real truth for us is impossible to find

tangled webs they never will unwind!

 

From a truly uncomplicated non corrupted race

one with nature and able to face

spiritual civilisations and dimensions unseen

that none of us have foreseen

forever they interact with UFO’s and Alien life

where for them there is no strife!

 

The native american indians even to this day

face persecution yet guide the way

to a perception of life most could never see

their essence evermore magically free!

 

The Foureyed Poet.

 

 

 

On A Hill!

On a hill that lonely beech tree stands

silently swaying always surveying.

gazing down on town and country lands

of countless changes and shrinking size

so much has happened since it has stood

undisturbed growing so gracefully

buildings creeping nearer it’s not good

now our air is far more polluted

with an unobstructed view no less

it has seen many phases of  life around

a distant train echoes through the stillness

as it moves swiftly homeward bound

early morning mist from the valley

covers the motorway that scars the land

man’s mission to destroy natures tally

rising toxic fumes and roaring traffic sounds

neutral of  human ways unable to escape

generations move on we all come and go

the tree remains keeping its shape

as the world changes rapidly all around!

How much longer before it’s destruction?

The Foureyed Poet.

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