UFSs on the Hill: The Aliens and the Groundhogs

Unidentified foreign objects,
Many stories that are often told
Of other worlds that have their own sects,
Mystery, but a few can uphold.

One such story recounted until
Its credibility was denied.
People believed it. There was a hill,
With UF0s and a myth that died.

Somehow it was the light of the moon,
Empowered them and to their delight,
Showed them exactly, perhaps too soon,
Where they could harvest grain in the night.

Near harvest time, they always appeared.
The aliens came to harvest grain,
Just as the farmers had always feared,
Before it was ripe and in the rain.

On top of the hill, it landed there;
The grass always crumpled, walked upon,
A pathway too, down the hill to where
The grain was growing, but soon was gone.

A trail of grain could always be seen.
There was no doubt that it disappeared,
Too soon to pick, not ready to glean.
Aliens sprouted a hairy beard.

Their ship was silvery, shiny, too,
Like a reflection, just they could see.
Some farmers thought they had come to woo.
Stories, but were those reality?

On rainy nights, the moon was full,
Parents would keep their daughters close by.
The grain was a portion they could pull,
But daughters were not allowed to fly

With aliens in a UFO.
What aliens did with grain, no one knew,
Or, where it was then about to go;
Maybe they planted, harvested too?

At the top of the hill, groundhogs played
Where UFOs had landed each time,
And dug deep burrows in which they stayed;
Became a nation, one so sublime.

Grandfathers gathered to smoke a pipe
In rocking chairs while watching each day,
Recounting grain aliens did swipe;
How groundhogs drove aliens away.

The groundhogs watched grandfathers all rock
And UFOs, they too, must have seen.
What if the groundhogs could really talk
And tell the grandfathers where they'd been?

A story about UFOs, aliens and groundhogs.