Mother Goose: CURLY-LOCKS
CURLY-LOCKS
Curly-locks, Curly-locks, wilt thou be mine?
Thou shalt not wash the dishes, nor yet feed the swine;
But sit on a cushion, and sew a fine seam
And feed upon strawberries, sugar, and cream.
Posts tagged ‘Poetry’
Mother Goose: A Candle
A CANDLE
Little Nanny Etticoat
In a white petticoat,
And a red nose;
The longer she stands
The shorter she grows.
Mother Goose: The Black Hen
THE BLACK HEN
Hickety, pickety, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen;
Gentlemen come every day
To see what my black hen doth lay.
Mother Goose: DIDDLE DIDDLE DUMPLING
DIDDLE DIDDLE DUMPLING
Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John
Went to bed with his breeches on,
One stocking off, and one stocking on;
Diddle diddle dumpling, my son John.
Mother Goose: Doctor Foster
DOCTOR FOSTER
Doctor Foster went to Glo’ster,
In a shower of rain;
He stepped in a puddle, up to his middle,
And never went there again.
Mother Goose: A Little Man
A LITTLE MAN
There was a little man, and he had a little gun,
And his bullets were made of lead, lead, lead;
He went to the brook, and saw a little duck,
And shot it right through the head, head, head.
He carried it home to his old wife Joan,
And bade her a fire to make, make, make.
To roast the little duck he had shot in the brook,
And he’d go and fetch the drake, drake, drake.
The drake was a-swimming with his curly tail;
The little man made it his mark, mark, mark.
He let off his gun, but he fired too soon,
And the drake flew away with a quack, quack, quack.
Mother Goose: THREE BLIND MICE
THREE BLIND MICE
Three blind mice! See how they run!
They all ran after the farmer’s wife,
Who cut off their tails with a carving knife.
Did you ever see such a thing in your life
As three blind mice?
Mother Goose: About the Bush
ABOUT THE BUSH
About the bush, Willie,
About the beehive,
About the bush, Willie,
I’ll meet thee alive.
Mother Goose: Wee Willie Winkie
WEE WILLIE WINKIE
Wee Willie Winkie runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs, in his nightgown;
Rapping at the window, crying through the lock,
“Are the children in their beds? Now it’s eight o’clock.”
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