A View of Glitter

The cast: Glitter (good/bad: the jury is still out).

This attempt at poetry was inspired by a set of pajamas my wife got, as a present, at Christmas time. We had hunted to find the perfect set: Not too thick, not too thin, the right kind of tactile experience (fabric feel matters), correct size, acceptable color/pattern. It all makes a difference. We found ’em and they’re great! But, they are also a little (really) sparkly (glitter). No worries. They look good on her and she likes them. So, nothing else really matters now, does it?

Additionally, a couple weeks ago, my youngest placed a shirt in the laundry that added to the subtle, growing, glittering effect already taking place with the family’s clothing. My favorite red Millennium Falcon tee-shirt is now ‘more space-like’.

I had a coworker once explain his feelings on glitter in words that cannot be forgotten, “Glitter is like the herpes of the craft world. You can get it cleaned up—and it might look like it’s all gone, but it always shows up again.”

So…  with that in mind, may you enjoy this satirical (maybe), over exaggerated (slightly), poem (sure) regarding my current situation involving glitter.

A VIEW of GLITTER, by William J. Bagnall

Glitter, glitter everywhere…
I’ve spotted some, just over there.

Glitter, glitter in my bed.
Now on my fingers. I scratch my head.

Glitter, glitter don’t you dare!
Now I’ve got it in my hair.

Glitter, glitter on my towel? 
I just showered! Now I scowl.

Glitter, glitter everywhere.
Great, now I’ve got sparkly underwear.

Glitter, glitter on my clothes.
Ah, I just sneezed glitter out nose.

Glitter, glitter on my shoe.
(at least it isn’t doggy poo)

Glitter, glitter in the hall,
On the floor, and on the wall.

Glitter. Glitter? In my food?
Breakfast glitter? I’m in no mood.

Glitter, glitter on the cat.
I don’t like her. So, that’s fine.

Glitter, glitter. It’s a bane.
This stuff is driving me insane!

Glitter, glitter in the rug?
Whew, it’s just a shiny little bug.

KILL IT!!!

Glitter, glitter everywhere.
I’ve spotted more upon my chair.

Glitter, glitter, subtle sheen. 
It’s still here after I clean.

Glitter, glitter. It is not gone!
Now on my tongue because I yawned.

Glitter, glitter still in my bed.
Sleep is now a thing I dread.

Glitter, glitter on my arm.
I think this thought’s gone on too long.

Glitter, glitter everywhere…
This stuff’s about to make me swear.