“Is there anybody there?” asked the UFO fans
Knocking on M. Gratzner’s door
As others in the background held their breath; desperate to hear more.
And Sky One flew out of the darkness
Above the massed fans’ heads
And they smote upon the door again a second time
“We’re waiting for news,” they said.
But no one descended to the UFO fans,
No sight of M. Gratzner was there,
Leaning over to look into those desperate eyes
With their angered and steely glare.
Only the shadow of fading fans
Who had weathered those lost long years
Stood listening in the background
To that voice that seemed filled with tears
Stood reliving faint memories of the series
That they watched on their plasma tvs
Hearkening to those remembered voices
As they heard those lonely pleas.
And they felt in their hearts the sadness
The despair as they all cried
And they all sat down and waited,
Watched the UFO website and sighed.
Then they suddenly smote on the door,
even louder and lifted their heads.
“Tell them we came and you did not answer.
But we’ll keep the faith,” they said.
Never the least stir made M Gratzner
Though every word they spake
Fell echoing through the shados of the deserted studio
From the last UFO fans left awake.
And they heard the click of car keys
And the creak of tyres on stone
Then the emptiness surged softly back
When the UFO fans had gone.
