The Watchers in the Sky - Part eight

The reanimated dog had no wounds,

its body, by the blood, had been consumed.

Quicker. More infectiously. Quite like mange.

The new-dog’s outer looks began to change;

baby blue irises turned to violet

because of white blood acting as pilot,

turning the dog, for a menacing use,

from grey and snow whites to a purple puce.

The dog was in control of their new form;

Bess long expelled by an exotic storm

of genetic matter not of this globe,

from deep outer space, now to here, they probe.

There appeared to be little protection

from this non-terrestrial infection.

New-Bess, like Bess, awaited its commands

at the mercy of Julie’s maligned hands.

Fred continued to run deep in the wood

as quickly, as rapidly as he could.

That man feared for his life and feared for more

regarding the death-defiance he saw.

Running far away with his posture stooped,

he felt such a fool for having been duped.

Fred tripped right over a long, fallen branch

and fell flatly with an almighty crunch.

New-Julie was no longer on her own,

the thing was with companion, in Fred’s home.

They decided to catch up with their prey;

this would, for Fred, only worsen his day.

New-Bess was on the trail, sniffing Fred’s scent,

New-Julie followed with evil intent.

The aliens were swiftly closing the gap

between them and Fred – poor, unlucky chap.

Fred heard thundering footsteps crashing close;

whilst fallen, he had received his fair dose

of muck, mud, and dirt from the woodland’s floor.

On his sad face, a fear so cold, he wore.

He got to his feet and raced once again;

they got ever closer to Fred’s disdain.

He turned to see the alien criminal;

its pet caught up – Fred’s chances: minimal.

One behind Fred and the other in front,

appeared to be the tail end of a hunt.

Fred begged: “Please, have mercy, set me free,

I won’t tell anybody that I see

of the things I’ve seen and of you creatures.”

“Well your planet just dies – you need new teachers,

my race will show you” it said doubtfully

At Fred who looked on, shaking fearfully…

---

A poetry series by student DP

07032019R30112020

17 September 2021