Sometimes I’ll pick a word just because I like the sound of it…and then write a poem or song all around that single word. Not because it has any special story behind it. Simply because it can then become its own story. So, one day, way back in 1973, I happened to think about the word “glisten” while walking through the dewy grass on a mild, Kansas summer morning.

My notebook and Bic pen were in my car, and I drove somewhere and wrote the poem. It’s not deep. It isn’t important. It isn’t even a great work of introspection or pondering. It’s simply the meandering thoughts of a young, dreamy-eyed writer wannabe. Enjoy…

Glisten

If you could listen to a glisten
What do you think you would hear?
I think the sound that would be found
Would ring out sparkling clear.
Glisten is the happy sound of happy children
In their happy worlds.
What a joy to enjoy when curled up glistens
Are uncurled.
Make for me a glisten
I can hold inside my hand.
I could carry it with me,
And I wouldn’t need a band.
This is but a moment in our lifetime.
I’m a word and you’re a word, and we rhyme.
If we glisten along our paths,
Our paths will glisten, too.
And if you’ll glisten for me,
I know I’ll glisten for you.

© Copyright Tony Funderburk 1973

So, the next time you’re walking in the back yard, first thing in the morning, with a cup of coffee in your hand, and you see the sun glistening off the blades of grass…be real still. Be real quiet. See if you can hear anything. And if you DO hear something you can’t quite make out, it might just be the the teeny, tiny sound of a glisten.

Stay tuned,