Splash!
03/31/25 • 1 min
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.
The seasons are changing, and it feels like winter is finally over—but spring hasn’t really started yet. Where my sister lives, people like to say they have only three seasons: summer, winter, and mud. I always thought that was a funny way to describe this in-between time of year, when the snow is melting, the ground is wet and messy, and everything turns to sludge.
So I decided to write a poem celebrating the muddy, splashy, sock-soaking season that comes right before the flowers bloom and the trees start to bud. For kids who love jumping in puddles and getting a little dirty, it might just be the best season of all!
Splash!
The snow is gone.
Outside I dash.
I jump up high
and then I SPLASH!
A spray of sludge
goes everywhere.
It cakes my clothes
and hands and hair.
I stomp around
in mucky ooze.
It soaks my socks.
It fills my shoes.
It’s such an awesome
time of year
before the signs
of spring appear.
Before new leaves
and flowers bud,
we have my favorite season:
MUD!
— Kenn Nesbitt
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.
The seasons are changing, and it feels like winter is finally over—but spring hasn’t really started yet. Where my sister lives, people like to say they have only three seasons: summer, winter, and mud. I always thought that was a funny way to describe this in-between time of year, when the snow is melting, the ground is wet and messy, and everything turns to sludge.
So I decided to write a poem celebrating the muddy, splashy, sock-soaking season that comes right before the flowers bloom and the trees start to bud. For kids who love jumping in puddles and getting a little dirty, it might just be the best season of all!
Splash!
The snow is gone.
Outside I dash.
I jump up high
and then I SPLASH!
A spray of sludge
goes everywhere.
It cakes my clothes
and hands and hair.
I stomp around
in mucky ooze.
It soaks my socks.
It fills my shoes.
It’s such an awesome
time of year
before the signs
of spring appear.
Before new leaves
and flowers bud,
we have my favorite season:
MUD!
— Kenn Nesbitt
Previous Episode
I Went for a Walk
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.
I wanted to write a poem about nature in the springtime, especially for young reader... kids in first grade. Spring is such a fun season to explore the outdoors—you never know what kinds of animals or colors you might see! So I thought it would be fun to create a simple, playful poem that includes both: a list of colorful animals that follow a child home like a parade of pets.
I hope you enjoy the rhythm, the rhyme, and the chance to imagine your own list of colorful animals you might like to have as pets!
I Went for a Walk
I went for a walk
in the woods with my dog.
I found a brown mouse
and a little green frog.
I found a blue bird
and a friendly white rat.
I found a red bug
and a cute orange cat.
They followed me home.
I hope my mom lets
me keep them forever—
my rainbow of pets!
— Kenn Nesbitt
Next Episode
An Oyster Celebration
Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.
Sometimes a poem begins with just a sound—two words that almost rhyme, or a funny phrase that gets stuck in my head. That’s what happened with today’s poem. I started playing with the sounds of two familiar words, and before long, I found myself wondering, “What if there were a place where people celebrated one of these things instead of the other?” Though the result may seem a little bizarre, I had so much fun writing it that I just had to share it. This is...
An Oyster Celebration.
There’s an Oyster celebration
every year in Oyster Bay,
when the Oyster Bunny brings
his Oyster eggs on Oyster Day.
They put their Oyster clothes on,
Oyster morning, getting dressed
in their brand-new Oyster bonnets
and their Oyster Sunday best.
They watch the Oyster Day parade
go marching through the streets,
and enjoy their Oyster baskets
filled with tasty Oyster treats.
They listen to the Oyster sermon
given by the priest,
then they have an Oyster egg hunt
and prepare their Oyster feast.
It might seem odd to you and me,
but this is just the way
that they celebrate on Oyster Island
every Oyster Day.
— Kenn Nesbitt
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