My house

My house is big and beautiful and green.

Because green is my favorite color.

I helped paint it.

I held the paintbrushes

while Daddy stood on the ladder.

Mommy has lots of gardens,

but there are never flowers.

Except for the yellow ones near the house

and the pink one in the forest

that I'm not supposed to pick.

She says it's because of the trees.

I don't understand. I like the shade.

There's a snake in the woodpile.

Daddy caught it and showed me.

It's skin was slippery and cool,

like the hose when Mommy waters the flowers.

He wouldn't let me hold it.

He didn't want me to get bit.

I asked Daddy if it was a boy or a girl.

He didn't know.

I think it's a boy.

Daddy caught me a frog, too.

I kissed it, but it didn't turn into a prince.

I kissed it again, to make sure.

The carpet in my room is orange.

Mommy wants to change it.

She says it's ugly.

But I like my orange carpet.

Mommy promised me green carpet, though.

I guess new carpet would be okay.

There's lots of planes.

Mommy says they land near our house.

She wears things in her ears at night

because they're too loud.

My brother and I always check

to make sure they're not UFOs.

They're so loud and so bright.

They can't be normal planes.

I have a swing-set, with monkey bars.

I like to do the monkey bars.

I'm good because I practice a lot.

The swings on my swing-set are green.

Mommy and Daddy gave it to me for Christmas.

We have a big hill in the backyard.

During the winter, Daddy piles up snow

until we can sled from the deck.

It's fun, but there's lots of trees at the bottom.

My brother bought a snowboard

at a yard sale with his allowance.

It's pink.

He's really bad at it and he always falls.

I like sledding, especially on the green sleds.

They're round and they spin really fast.

Sometimes Daddy sleds with me.

Behind the hill there's a swamp.

During the summer it smells funny

and there's lots of bugs.

I don't like bugs.

During the winter, it freezes.

My brother and I walk on the ice

until we can't see the house anymore.

There's a tree on its side.

It's roots stick up like fingers,

reaching to grab me

and bring me to another world.

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Notes: Since I didn't get to write a poem yesterday, I wrote two today to make up for it. This is the fourth prompt on The Journal. The prompt was: "Write a poem that describes a walk through a house from the perspective of a child." I liked this prompt.