The Gluboo



Uncle J had always said
A Gluboo lived beneath my bed;
That if I didn’t curl up small
I’d wake up pinned against the wall.

“He’ll paste you there with Gluboo glue,
“And make you wish you were not you.
“Do you think I’m trying to scare you?
Don’t believe me then – I dare you.

“Nobody will hear your screams,
“From where you’re stuck inside your dreams,
“And when you wake up cold and frozen,
“You’ll remember – you were chosen.”

That night in bed I curled up tight,
While through my curtain, Moon shone bright.
She sang to me, beneath the sheet
How not to sleep with dangled feet.

All night long she kept me well,
Beneath a silver moon-shine spell,
And when I woke and wasn’t dead,
I smiled. “Thank you, Moon,” I said.

But something wasn’t right this morning.
Then I saw it – like a warning,
Trailing off along the floor,
And out beyond my bedroom door.

Feeling scared and oh so small
I tiptoed out across the hall.
Goose bumps ran beneath my hair
Like warning bells saying “STOP RIGHT THERE!”

Uncle J’s room, on the right
Was where the slime went out of sight.
“Here we go,” I softly said.
I prayed that he was still in bed.

But I was wrong, for J was stuck,
Coated thick in Gluboo’s muck;
Mouth was open, eyes were wide.
So it was true. He hadn’t lied.

Strings of slime hung down around him,
That was how my parents found him.
“Did Gluboo get you then?” I said.
He couldn’t even nod his head.


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