They're Coming Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The world is quiet, stars look down,
Above the roof of every town.
November comes, the sky turns wide,
With nowhere left for us to hide.

A silver shape begins to glide,
No place for secrets left to bide.
The massive ship breaks through the blue,
A sight that changes all we knew.

From deep within the velvet night,
The visitors arrive in light.
The dream of ages, strange and grand,
To reach out to a distant hand.