'We are They' by Duncan Mathews
The creature stalks,
The creature flies,
It swoops down from on high,
That sea of blue,
Blue.
Nothing stirs where the creature's been,
Through valleys,
Forests and mountains green,
Green.
No sheep caught in a thicket,
No noisy and unwary cricket.
They're all afraid it'll come back,
Hunt them through a night of black,
Black.
So what are these creatures of which they speak?
Do they have claws,
Or even a beak?
No they have arms, legs and even heads,
They live in houses, sleep in beds,
Sleep by night walk by day.
Who?
We are they.
'These Creatures' by Lydia Johnson
These creatures lurk in our houses,
And they hog the couch and devour the food.
So when you come home hungry
The fridge is empty. How rude!
Their lair looks like a dumpyard,
And smells like a trip to the zoo.
And you'd think their clothes had been soaked in mud
Or dipped into the loo.
They disguise themselves as humans,
Though everyone knows they're something more
As they act completely different:
They scream and shout and kick and roar.
These creatures won't abduct you,
They'll follow you around until you give in.
They claim they are our 'brothers'
But somehow they just don't fit in.
'Creatures' by Nicole Cosgrove
Creatures
Tiny little bugs' eyes
Hidden, startled, open:
Creating a universe
Parallel to mine
Within the space of a hedge.
The wonder of the spectacular
And the normality of normal,
Is everywhere around us
In the surroundings
Of my life.
To assume that I am
On my own is to
Miss a world of wonder.
When I close my eyes
I find these creatures
In the recesses of my mind.
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