Below is the poem entitled The Hourglass which was written by poet
Robinson. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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2200. It's dark. It's still.
My body rests. A little thinking time.
My mind empties from the top to the bottom,
And is replaced with meditation rhyme
Like an hourglass, the sand dissipates.
The hourglass becomes transparent.
I peer through my mind. Two prominent
Figures become clearly apparent.
The first figure makes me think of happiness.
Bow-legged, swaying for balance
With soft, wooly hair that I know warms
A brain of many developing talents.
Two full, rosy cheeks that plump
Into a youthful, innocent smile
That's contageous, always returned even over
The distance of thousands of miles.
Quick, fast hands that explore with
Quick, fast eyes, ever learning.
Getting to grips with the world around them.
Something new at every turning.
The falls and bumps as the bow-legs
Learn to walk and then run.
I smile inside. The first figure. Xavier.
My young lion. I love you, my son.
My son holds the right hand of a second figure.
Gasp! I'm left breathless.
I search for speech and am left to
Invent words. I'm deathless!
I'm full of life and stand in awe of a figure
So graceful so light.
The two figures in the hourglass of my mind
Bring me happiness and life.
I feel complete.
I asess the second figure with my eyes,
Starting at the top.
It's like a fine work of art, revealed by silk cover,
That shimmers as it drops.
Soft, black hair I so long to run my
And the face of an angel. An angel
That I'm so proud to belong to.
An angel with eyes so deep, I feel that
I could look into them and search for heaven's gates.
Heaven being the love stored in the heart that
For the third figure awaits.
Below the eyes, a cute button-nose and high
Cheeks connected to soft, warm lips
By the cutest dimples I often see when
The soft, warm lips I kiss.
I continue down the figure that is a
Masterpiece of the Almighty,
Using my eyes as hands to caress smooth,
Dark skin ever so lightly.
Gliding over perfect curves as the figure
holds perfect composure.
To perfection, my eyes have had
A complete exposure.
My hourglass. Filled with happiness and, now,
Joined by life.
Xavier, my son, holding the hand of Charity,
My Cherub and my wife.
The hourglass turns once more
But the figures remain.
You see, the figures and the hourglass
Are one and the same.
Ever-present in my mind, even through
The shifting sands of life.
My son, my wife.