Months and Seasons (a poem for children)


I was driving with my four year-old today and seeing if she could remember the names of the months and the order they came in. She did pretty well (with a little hinting at first letter sounds.) Then I asked her if she remembered the names and order of the seasons. She missed a few so I thought about how I could help her remember them easier. As usual, I wrote a poem. I read it to her tonight at bedtime and she seemed to enjoy it. Feel free to share it with your little ones! 🙂

Months and Seasons

In January, the year begins
and the air is crisp and cold.
Winter’s snowy beard is long
and he’s starting to get old.

In February, it warms a little
but Winter, he still holds on
for he knows spring is coming
and when it does, he’ll be gone.

In March, the sun starts shining
on all the children as they play.
After all that snow, the flowers
put on a remarkable display.

In April, it gets even prettier.
The air is full of spring’s perfume
as bees and birds and butterflies
soar and glide from bloom to bloom.

In June, the sun grows anxious
for its days of glory to begin.
Spring is Summer’s closest friend
so we see each and they both win!

In July, the sun is beating down.
Every creature seeks the shade,
dreaming of cooler winter months
and the flowers that spring made.

In August, the sun starts to wain.
It’s fury, once again, is spent.
The autumn comes to give it rest
and asks it kindly to relent.

In September, cool winds blow again
as if to warn of winter’s chill.
Days are filled with schoolyard fun
and nights are long and still.

In October, the sun is far and dim.
Leaves that were green begin to fade
to brown and yellow, red and gold.
And in dying, rare beauty’s made.

In November, the trees prepare
for the long, cold months ahead.
Only the heartiest flowers grow
and the trees’ leaves all are shed.

In December, the other seasons
are covered over when it snows
but winter has beauty all its own
as the year comes to a close.

So that’s the story of the months
and the seasons we love to see,
each magnificent in their own ways.
Pretty amazing! Don’t you agree?

– Mark Rickerby (c) 2015