When my kids were in elementary school, they loved taking rules very literally. If I told my son not to touch his sister, he would immediately find the exact spot where he could stand as close as possible without actually touching her, and think it was hilarious. Technically, he was following the rule, even if he was clearly missing the spirit of it.

That kind of literal thinking has always made me laugh, especially when it comes to rules at school. Kids hear a rule, take it at face value, and then use a lot of creativity to follow it exactly, sometimes in ways adults never expected. It’s not about breaking the rules; it’s about finding all the tiny spaces around them.

I realized there might be a poem hiding in that idea, especially if the rule was followed with complete sincerity… and a whole lot of imagination. That’s where this poem came from.

I hope it makes you smile, especially if you’ve ever known a kid who was very good at following rules, just not quite the way they were intended. This is…

No Running in the Hall

They said, “No running in the hall,”
and so I didn’t run at all.
They didn’t say, “Don’t skip and prance.”
They didn’t say, “Don’t disco dance.”

And so, you may have seen me hop,
or spiral like a spinning top,
or zig and zag from side to side,
or spread my arms to fly and glide.

I might have marched. I might have stomped.
I might have wriggled, rolled, and romped.
I might have done a funky strut.
I might have wagged my you-know-what.

I might have slid across the floor,
or maybe moonwalked through a door,
or got down on my knees to crawl.
But, hey, I didn’t run at all.

— Kenn Nesbitt

A lot of my poems are inspired by things that happen in my own life. I wrote this one while my wife was watching a football game with her sister and brother-in-law, and I was in the other room working on a poem. As they cheered at the TV, it made me think about how different people in the same family often want to watch completely different things.

That reminded me that many families wait until Christmas to make big purchases—like a brand-new TV—and that sometimes, instead of bringing everyone together, it can create a whole new set of arguments. Football? Parades? Christmas cartoons? A holiday movie? Everyone has a favorite.

I started wondering what might happen if nobody could agree on what to watch on their shiny new television. That little idea was enough to spark this poem.

Our Brand-New TV

For Christmas, our gift was a brand-new TV.
We couldn’t agree, though, on what we should see.

My sister said, “We should all watch the parade.”
Our dad said, “The football game’s on, I’m afraid.”

My brother said, “Let’s watch a Christmas cartoon!”
Our mom said, “A good movie’s starting at noon.”

We squabbled and fought over what we should see
for hours and hours but couldn’t agree.

And meanwhile, our dog, who did not get a vote,
just sat down and chewed up the TV remote.

The TV’s now stuck from the way that he chewed.
It only shows squirrels and close-ups of food.

And, strangely, we all liked his channel much better.
It turns out our dog is a great TV setter.

— Kenn Nesbitt

I’ve always loved building snowmen. When my kids were younger, we used to spend whole winter afternoons rolling giant snowballs around the yard, hunting for the perfect sticks for arms, and deciding how he should be dresses and decorated. Which hat would work best? Should he have a scarf or a tie? Does he really need a carrot nose or would a button work just as well?

This year, I started thinking about how much personality a snowman seems to have by the time you’re done with it. You give it a hat, a scarf, and a pipe, and suddenly it feels like a character—someone who might have opinions about your artistic decisions. I wondered what would happen if a snowman actually could share those opinions.

That little idea was enough to spark this poem. The moment I imagined a half-finished snowman watching me choose its accessories, I knew I wanted to write about it. What would a snowman say? What would it care about? What would it absolutely not want? I hope you enjoy the result.

Snow’s Nose

I made a new snowman
out in our front yard.
It didn’t take long and
it wasn’t too hard.

I stacked up some snowballs.
I gave them a pat,
then threw on a scarf,
and a pipe, and a hat.

I sculpted some feet
from a little more snow,
and stuck in some sticks
where his arms ought to go.

I added some coal
for his buttons and eyes,
and that’s when he spoke,
to my utter surprise.

He said to me, “Thanks for
the hat, scarf, and pipe.
The sticks that you picked
are exactly my type.

“Now bring me some carrots.
You picked all my clothes,
but really, I don’t want you
picking my nose.”

— Kenn Nesbitt