Poem Hunter
Aliens In My Door
HD (10/7/1970 / )

Aliens In My Door

Poem By Heather Darling

Aliens are living in my door,
Although it sounds bizarre.
My mother calls it wood grain,
But I know what they are.

One night when I was sleeping
With my window opened wide,
There were strange and squeeky noises,
Then two aliens climbed inside!

I first thought I was dreaming
And then was scared to death.
I didn't say a word, though,
I barely took a breath.

They searched around my bedroom,
What they sought I do not know.
They looked up and they looked down
And then they turned to go.

Just then my mother entered
And under the bed they went.
She closed and locked the window,
Then adjusted the heating vent.

With a quick kiss on my forehead
She turned and left the room.
The aliens came out of hiding
With looks of mutual gloom.

They went to check the window
But found it wouldn't budge.
Their mitten shape hands, to my surprise,
Did not leave a smudge!

They talked the matter over
And then seemed to decide
The door my mother went through
Must be the way outside.

In space doors must work differently
Because they were confused.
They seemed to want to walk right through,
Like mechanical doors I have used.

Step up close.

One step more.

It seemed to be broken so they looked around,
But couldn't find a cause.

Then across the room they went,
To get a running start,
But with the door closed it seemed
To me not very smart.

On your mark, get set, GO!
They ran, and jumped and then
As if they were water and the door a sponge
It sucked those creatures in!

I was awake the rest of the night,
But never stirred from bed.
I thought about all that I had seen
Again and again in my head.

When the sun came up and lit my room
I called my mother to hurry,
And when I pointed to the aliens
She just laughed and said, 'Don't worry.'

She didn't believe a word I said,
Though I told her many times.
She explained about trees and how over years
The rings had made those lines.

I talk to my aliens every night
But I have never heard a sound more,
And if I ever get a chance
I will free them from that door.


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Comments (3)

I really enjoyed this Heather. We always had wood grained panelling and I was always sure I saw faces in it.........this is a great poem. sincerely, Mary
Thank you, Max! I guess some of us never grow up and continue to see faces, animals and even aliens in wood, clouds, and even swirly bathroom tile. Here's to Peter Pan.
I think this is very imaginative. I actually have 'seen' faces in wood grain, too. I enjoyed most of your rhymes, they are very natural, and you use the situation in your room and house in a natural and 'believable' way. In a couple places, the longer lines (irregular meter) bothered me a bit, but mostly I just enjoyed your writing!