The Kids Who Say They Hate Reading? They Usually Love Poetry.
Author's Desk · June 15, 2026
If your child has ever looked you in the eye and said "reading is boring" — this is for you. Because there's a very good chance they don't actually hate reading. They just haven't found the right door in yet.
I've heard it from so many parents. The child who sighs at every book suggestion. Who "reads" a chapter in two minutes flat and retains nothing. Who would rather do anything — absolutely anything — than sit down with a book.
And then a funny thing happens. Someone reads a poem aloud to them. Something short, something silly, something with a rhythm that bounces off the walls of the room. And that same child — the one who hates reading — leans in.
They ask to hear it again.
It's not that they hate reading. It's that the reading they've been offered hasn't felt like it was made for them yet.
Why Poetry Works for the Child Who Resists
There's a reason poetry has existed in every human culture since the beginning of recorded history. It's not because it's academic. It's because it's the most natural form of language we have. Before children learn to read, they learn nursery rhymes. They chant. They make up songs about their lunch. They have a built-in love of rhythm and sound that we sometimes accidentally train out of them by the time they're in second grade.
Poetry-stories meet children where that instinct still lives. Here's why they work so well for the kids who resist everything else:
1. They're short enough to actually finish. A reluctant reader is often a child who has learned that reading = a long, effortful experience that doesn't end in satisfaction. A poem-story ends. It ends fast. And finishing something feels good — every single time.
2. The rhythm carries them through. Prose requires a reader to bring their own momentum. Poetry provides it. The rhythm pulls the child forward even when their attention wants to wander. They often find themselves at the end of a poem before they realized they were reading.
3. Surprise is built into the form. Good poetry sets up an expectation — and then turns it sideways at the last moment. Children are wired for surprise. They live for the "wait, what?" moment. Poetry delivers it reliably in a way that page-three of a chapter book often doesn't.
4. It sounds like something, not just words. When poetry is read aloud, it becomes music. It becomes performance. It becomes a shared experience rather than a solitary chore. The child isn't just processing text — they're experiencing something with you.
5. It stays in the body, not just the brain. Ask a child to summarize a chapter they read and they may struggle. Ask them to repeat the funny line from a poem you read ten minutes ago and they'll get it word for word. Rhythm and rhyme are memory's best friends.
What This Actually Looks Like at Home
Let's be practical for a moment. You're not being asked to redesign your entire approach to reading. You're being asked to try one poem. Tonight. Before bed.
A moment worth knowing: one of the poems in Good Tidings has a last line that makes children stop mid-laugh and go completely quiet for exactly one second — and then lose it completely. Parents have told me their reluctant readers asked for it again before they'd even fully registered what they'd just heard. That pause is where reading stops being a task and starts being a feeling.
The entry point matters enormously. When we introduce reading as something serious, educational, and long, we accidentally teach children that reading is work. But when we read a poem aloud — with voices, with pauses, with the delight it deserves — we're teaching them something entirely different. We're teaching them that words can be an experience.
That lesson carries. A child who learns to love a poem is a child who is already on their way to loving a book.
A Few Ways to Start Tonight
→ Read it aloud first — even to yourself before the kids are in the room. Find the rhythm. Find the funny line. Let yourself enjoy it before you share it.
→ Don't explain it. Don't quiz them. Don't ask "what do you think that meant?" Just read it and let it land.
→ Read it again if they want you to. The request for "one more time" is not a delay tactic — it's the best possible response a poem can get.
→ Let them be the one to ask for more. The goal isn't to get through as many poems as possible. It's to leave them wanting one more.
→ Try it in the car, at breakfast, in the two minutes before school. Poetry doesn't need a ceremony. It just needs a voice.
For the Teachers Reading This
You already know this. You've seen the reluctant reader sit up straighter during read-aloud. You've watched the child who struggles most with independent reading be the first to shout out a repeated line. You've felt the room shift when a poem lands just right.
Poetry-stories belong in your classroom circle not as a supplementary treat but as a core part of what you do. A well-chosen poem read aloud in the first five minutes of the day tells every child in that room: words can be delightful. This place is for you.
That message — quiet and consistent and delivered one poem at a time — is one of the most powerful things you can offer.
The child who says they hate reading is often the child who is waiting, without knowing it, for someone to show them what reading can actually feel like. Not every book is that door. But for a lot of kids, a poem is.
Start there. See what happens.