From my spot on the floor in the attic
My memory porting me there…!.!.
In my mind I go
Embark now on a journey
A tiny square window
Latticed with the webs of spiders
Emits steady streams
Sunlight golden
Flows in rivulets across
Dusty planks
The dust floats up
Disturbed by my presence
Appearing as sparkling
Fairy dust…
I open a trunk
Pull out the treasures
The value to me
Without measure
A jack in the box,
Plays tinny tune
As
I wound up
The head suddenly popping!.!.!.
My colourful
Tin spinning top…!.
Pumped up
Goes twirling
Making music as it
Traces a line
Through the dust
On the floor
I sit here alone
With my memories
Of the attic
In that little house
I first called home
Entranced
In the moment
Realization dawns
Magic still lives
In my mind
Www@QuestionHome@Com