Crop Circles

CROP CIRCLE

by Cleve Taylor

I visited a mysterious crop circle

On the Salisbury plains near StoneHenge

Which appeared next to a tomb barrow

A stone's throw from the standing stones of Avesbury

While walking the patterns of the flattened wheat

A curious shortish man I chanced to meet

He asked if I thought the circle was the work of aliens

If it were made by beings from the sky

Not a chance, I scoffed

Then I told him why

There's no such thing as visitors from space I said

This circle is but the work of a prank

This flattened wheat, I told him

Was made by two men dragging a plank

He argued not, just nodded his head

And continued off on his own

I went to inspect the barrow

And when I came out he was gone

Then the earth did tremor

Like a giant stomping the ground

And a spaceship rose from over Silbury Hill

The curious man was Venus bound