Effulgent

I one day thought I’d ill-invent
a word as dumb as “cromulent,”
used only by the corpulent.

So with a little effort dealt,
my brainpan thus began to melt,
split synapses a sanding belt,
each burning thought a painful welt.

And out of that psychotic vent
there came a word all mangled, bent;
its mere existence begged, “repent!”

Yet over time my word did flow
throughout the land, from high to low
until the scholars did bestow
upon my word unearthly glow,
raising it hither, too and fro,
a bar above the status quo.

It reached up high and shone with glory
like a dolled-up British Tory
and echoed of an ancient foray
into the wilds of pre-history.

What price charge I for magnificence?
Honor, my friend, for my reverence.
But if in your benevolence,
you seek to award a recompense,
you’ll find I question your competence
’cause who’d love such an abhorrence?

You’d think after the decades spent
perfecting my word so as to prevent
a misunderstanding of what I’d meant,
that you would be more... indulgent?
“Why was this word so poorly wrent?”
you rudely ask; you must relent,
for it’s the best I could present
in haste at that exact moment.
Besides, the word is transcendent;
bright beaming outlook translucent,
smooth contours simply gradient.
The best that words can represent.
Why, it’s just so Effulgent.