‘Time (for Children)’ and Other Poetry by Joe Tessitore

Time (for Children)

Time flies, as everyone knows
and time marches on, as the saying goes
and time will stand still now and then when we wish
but does time ever swim
for fish?
And does it swing from the trees
for monkeys?
And does it leap over logs
for frogs?
And if you’re trying to understand
I bet you have way too much
time on your hands
and you really should be doing your homework

The Winter’s First Snow

A weathered grey tug
with a great barge in tow
makes its’ way up the Hudson,
dead ahead slow

As a blustery day
churns a chop on the river
and cold, salty spray
leaves her deck hands a-shiver

The icy winds blow;
ever north does she sail
as the winter’s first snow
turns to sleet and to hail

From our window we watch
as she heads on her way;
push the heat up a notch
on this cold winter’s day

The Weeping Willow

The weeping willow bowed her head
so none could see the tears she shed
nor ascertain just why she wept
nor share the hidden pain she kept

Then on a blanket  spread beneath
a mother wove a willow wreath
and gave it to her little child
and then the weeping willow smiled

The Seasons

Tulip blossoms in the snow
the seasons come and so they go
like clouds beneath the moon

In silence they go drifting past
and as they do their shadows cast
such beauty, gone so soon

Joe Tessitore is a retired New York City resident and poet.