The Pick Up

While I journeyed through the forest, on my way to pick up Doris,

glimpses of a shadowed creature troubled me along the way.

Tempest winds began astirring, flashes of pale light occurring,

loud, metallic noise was whirring, apprehension soon held sway.

Was it aliens conferring in the woods at close of day?

Were they taking me away?

Overhead, white beams were flashing, in the dark I heard a crashing,

suddenly, the creature's thrashing, arms and legs in disarray.

Quickly was the scene unfolding, dimly lit, my eyes beholding,

undercover cops were holding someone who was clad in gray.

Bound and handcuffed, wrists were shackled, convict who had gone astray.

Prisoner that fled today.

Helicopters circled slowly with their trenchant rays turned soley

on the creature who was wholly cursing Fate's low, fickle way.

Realizing I was hidden, witnessing arrest, unbidden,

my reserve was overridden, silent laughter, muffled bray.

Freedom strictly was forbidden, but, there's one thing I could say...

Doris sure looked good in gray.

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