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U3A Writing: Memories Of Sunbeams

Muriel Spencer recalls innocent childhood days when a beam of sunlight was reason for an excited shout of delight.

I am sitting on the floor playing with the clothes pegs.
I feel the roughness of the mat against my legs.
Mother is cleaning; the pungent aroma of polish is in the air.
Sunlight is streaming through the window.
Miniscule particles of dust are caught in its beam.
They sparkle and dance.
I am captivated by their shimmering, ever-changing brilliance.
I reach out to catch the whirling, iridescent, fragments.
Time after time I try; time after time they elude me.
I shout out, excited, bewildered, yet fascinated,
Enchanted by this shining toy.
Mother smiles down.


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