Hourglass somersaults

Two mornings ago, i was just hit by a torrent of hidden old memories- sights, sounds, smells, a touch or two...i've finally forced my habitual side to forsake a rhyme scheme, i'm afraid it'll tamper with the feel of the poem. seems to give me a freedom from self-imposed shackles :)..

Its just another morning till the first thought hits you,

And flies you on its wings to a long-forgotten place.

You peer curiously at those vaguely familiar strings,

Threads of a life left behind, come to greet you again,

As the hourglass somersaults for you one more time.

Is that you, whose mother plants a kiss on the cheek?

Waving goodbye to the figure in pants much too big.

Is it the same smell, of books imprinted onto wood?

The first day back to school, brings back a panorama,

As the hourglass somersaults for you one more time.

Touch the same blades of grass that you ran through,

Or sometimes hid in, till your mothers grew worried.

The long summer days changed your innocent friendship,

Into the first pangs of an eager yearning for her touch,

As the hourglass somersaults for you one more time.

Time slows to a timid crawl, you're with your friends,

How can you keep talking so much about nothing?

It wasn't that funny a line, you all laugh together too much,

Yellow memories of a bonhomie on a failing recollection,

As the hourglass somersaults for you one more time.

But you're back in bed, your journey a hazy memento,

The canvas of your life just passed in front of your eyes,

Is there a regret, or a pining for what could have been?

If so close your eyes, and wish for it all over again,

As the hourglass somersaults for you one last time.