Category: Podcast

My Smelly Telephone by Kenn Nesbitt My Smelly Telephone

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

One of the things that I enjoy most about writing poems is playing with words—especially when a word sounds like something else entirely. Today’s poem is one of those where the idea came from imagining a mix-up… the kind of mix-up that might happen if you were shopping for something high-tech and got something completely unexpected instead. This is…

My Smelly Telephone

My telephone is smelly.
It’s a smelly telephone.
I wish it didn’t stink but
it’s the only one I own.

I thought I bought a smartphone
that was also cellular.
It seems that’s not exactly what
they meant by “smellular.”

And so, I learned the hard way
what I didn’t know before…
They don’t sell normal cellphones
when you’re at the smellphone store.

— Kenn Nesbitt

An Oyster Celebration by Kenn Nesbitt 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

Splash by Kenn Nesbitt Splash!

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

I Went for a Walk by Kenn Nesbitt 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

I Tried to Catch a Leprechaun by Kenn Nesbitt I Tried to Catch a Leprechaun

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt

With St. Patrick’s Day coming up, I thought it would be fun to write a poem about the tradition of trying to catch a leprechaun and find his pot of gold. Many kids set leprechaun traps, hoping to outsmart the tricky little creatures. But I started wondering—what if, after all that effort, you didn’t catch a leprechaun at all? What if you ended up catching something much less exciting instead?

That idea made me laugh, so I decided to turn it into this poem. I hope it makes you laugh too—and that if you go searching for leprechauns, you have better luck than the narrator of this poem!

I Tried to Catch a Leprechaun

I went out on St. Patrick’s Day—
a morning wet and cold—
to try to catch a leprechaun
and find his pot of gold.

I saw a rainbow down the street
and just around the bend.
I chased it through the chilly rain
but never found its end.

I hunted for a fairy fort
where leprechauns might be.
I searched through soggy clover fields
and in a hollow tree.

I even built a special trap,
but it was all in vain.
And so, at last, I trudged back home
in frigid wind and rain.

I spent the whole day searching,
but I found no pot of gold.
I never caught that leprechaun.
I only caught a cold.

— Kenn Nesbitt

Random Andy by Kenn Nesbitt Random Andy

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

A publisher recently asked me to write a fun poem for first graders that would help build phonemic awareness—the ability to hear, recognize, and play with sounds in words. They wanted something that would show how syllables and sounds can be changed, moved around, and combined in new ways. I had a great time coming up with silly word mashups and actually wrote several different poems for them.

In the end, the publisher chose to publish one of the other poems I wrote, but I liked this one so much that I decided to share it on my website for kids to enjoy. After all, playing with words is one of the best ways to learn how they work! What kind of fun, mixed-up words can you come up with? This is…

Random Andy

Random Andy makes up things
by sticking words together.
Today he made a flowercow
and then a picklefeather.

He also made some candypants.
He made some airplanetrees.
He made some donutdragonflies
and bluebananabees.

He made a monkeytoothbrush
and a corncobcoffeecup.
If you made things like Random Andy,
what would you make up?

— Kenn Nesbitt

I've Started Getting Younger by Kenn Nesbitt I’ve Started Getting Younger

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

Have you ever dreamed about not getting any older and just staying young forever? I know I had that thought once or twice when I was a kid. But what if that wish actually came true—but not in the way you expected? This poem plays with the idea of aging in reverse, turning what might seem like a fun, magical experience into something a little more alarming!

I love writing poems that take an ordinary idea, like making a birthday wish, and turning it into something unexpected. This one also has a playful connection to classic stories like Peter Pan (who, along with the Lost Boys, never grows up) or The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (about a man who ages in reverse) but with a humorous twist. It’s a reminder to be careful what you wish for… and maybe to think twice before blowing out those birthday candles! This is…

I’ve Started Getting Younger

I’ve started getting younger.
I’m aging in reverse.
Although that might sound awesome,
there may be nothing worse.

Last week I was eleven,
but now I’m only eight.
Tomorrow I’ll be seven.
I’m frightened of my fate.

Next week, if this continues,
I won’t know how to talk,
and pretty soon won’t even
remember how to walk.

They’ll put me back in diapers
and after that, I fear,
while drinking from my bottle,
I might just disappear!

This started on my birthday.
Without a moment’s doubt,
I wished to not grow older
and blew the candles out.

I never share my wishes,
but now I’m telling you,
because I’m really hoping
my wish does not come true.

— Kenn Nesbitt

Our Teacher's Valentine by Kenn Nesbitt Our Teacher’s Valentine

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

Valentine’s Day was coming up, and I had been trying for days to think of something funny to write about—but nothing seemed quite right. Then, in the middle of the night, I woke up from a sound sleep with the ending of this poem suddenly clear in my head. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, quickly jotted down the idea, and went right back to sleep. The next morning, when I looked at what I had written, I still thought it was a good idea, so I sat down and finished the poem.

Sometimes coming up with ideas is easy, and sometimes it takes a little longer. But there’s no need to get frustrated. Just remember that it’s important for writers to have a way to capture ideas whenever they appear—whether it’s a notebook, a phone, or even just a scrap of paper. And remember, you don’t always have to write a poem or story in order! If the ending comes to you first, like it did for me, you can start there and work your way backward. Inspiration doesn’t always follow a straight line, but when it strikes, be ready to catch it!

Without further ado, here is…

Our Teacher’s Valentine

The students in our classroom
made a Valentine today,
a giant heart on cardboard,
out of pink and purple clay.

We added beads and buttons
to our beautiful design,
then covered it with glitter
to ensure that it would shine.

We gave it to our teacher
to express how much we care,
to tell her that we like her
and we’re glad to have her there.

She said it was a masterpiece.
She said it made her day.
She placed it in a picture frame
to put it on display.

She told us we were brilliant
as she hung it on the wall,
like art on exhibition in
some gallery or hall.

It’s nice to know our teacher thinks
we’re talented and smart.
We’re glad we made her happy with
our little work of heart.

— Kenn Nesbitt

I Am a Cow

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

The first time I ever saw a cow, I was about three years old. My father took me to a dairy farm, and I remember standing right next to a wooden fence, face to face with a huge cow. I was completely surprised! For many years afterward, my dad loved to tell the story of how I looked up at him and asked, “What do they do to us?”—a question that still makes me laugh today.

While most of my poems are written for kids ages 8 and up, this time I wanted to write something for younger readers, especially Kindergarten students. “I Am a Cow” is a simple and playful poem that encourages curiosity, observation, and comparison. It’s written from the perspective of a cow who is just as puzzled about people as we might be about animals. I hope young readers enjoy thinking about the differences—and maybe even a few similarities—between cows and themselves!

I'll Never Ride the Waterslide by Kenn Nesbitt I’ll Never Ride the Waterslide

Welcome to Poetry4kids. I’m Kenn Nesbitt.

When I was 11 years old, my school took the sixth graders on a field trip to the mountains where there was snow. Many of the kids brought sleds or inflatable tubes to ride down the hills, and I brought a tube as well. At first, I was too scared to ride it, so I sat out and watched. Unfortunately, I also forgot to bring my lunch that day. While the other kids were eating, I finally worked up the courage to try the hill. Let’s just say it didn’t go as planned—I ran into a tree and broke my leg.

Ever since then, I’ve been much more cautious about slides and other fast downhill activities, like skiing, sledding, skateboarding, and even cycling. This poem is a humorous take on that experience, with a winter twist. It’s also a reminder that sometimes being a little cautious isn’t such a bad idea!

I’ll Never Ride the Waterslide

I’ll never ride the waterslide,
not after yesterday.
I tried the slide, then cried and cried.
I should have stayed away.

I banged my back and belly up.
My bottom’s badly bruised.
I heard it should be lots of fun.
I’m totally confused.

But still, I learn from my mistakes.
I will not do it twice.
I’ll never ride the slide again
in winter when it’s ice.

— Kenn Nesbitt