Benefactors


The aliens had landed…
It was all over TV!
On all of the news channels,
The only thing you could see.

They were strange looking creatures
But nobody seemed to mind.
They said they’d come here to learn
How to best serve mankind.

Then the scholars among them
Had landed here for a look.
What they learned through their research,
They would write into a book.

Their ship’s arrival had caused
Such a worldwide sensation
That our leaders had promised
Our full cooperation.

So many wanted to be
Our planet’s first volunteer.
The aliens chose just one,
He went along without fear.

Our wise men had all gathered,
They had a humongous task,
Getting together a list
Of all the questions to ask.

Then they came back to invite
Another group to their ship.
Just the young and the healthy
They said could best stand the trip.

We could all see their huge craft
Hanging way up there in space.
They said they were deciding
How they could best serve our race.

Our health was the first item
Of their concern it would seem.
So they’d wipe out all illness,
We were all living a dream.

They taught us ways to make food
Out of our organic waste,
Food that no one could resist
After just one little taste.

Our lives couldn’t be better…
No more work for a living!
The aliens would provide…
They just seemed to love giving.

Then a ham operator
Received a message, one night,
About the aliens’ BOOK.
His was a voice full of fright.

No translation existed,
They weren’t able to read it
But now it didn’t matter
Because they didn’t need it.

One look at the book’s drawings
Was about all that it took,
“The Ways to Best Serve Mankind,”
Was an alien cookbook!


The English language is a funny language. It has a lot of words that can have two different meanings that are the opposite of each other. If you dress your children, you are putting an outer covering on them. If you dress a chicken you are removing its outer covering.

Benefactors is a poem that uses one such word to make its point. The point being that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. (Another of my Dad’s favorite sayings.)

(I really wrote the poem because I like to draw little space people.)

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