Mud Hole by Sophie L.

As the children pick berries I watch them as
they stop and run over and jump in.
I feel my ooey-gooey mud absorb them as
they splash around tickling my belly.

They take some mud of mine
but,
I don't mind.
They make mud pies
and let them dry.

They come again soon
and we play.
I wish they could stay
forever.
Sometimes I'm alone
but not always.

In winter I sleep under snow,
In spring I play in the sun,
In summer I'm absorbed into the ground,
and in fall I come back and play
with the children.

Topic: Persona Poem ~ revised March 1, 2010