Nursery Rhymes. Folk songs. Mother Goose rhymes.
Week
Monday's child is nice and slow
Tuesday's child is go, go, go
Wednesday's child is very funny
Thursday's child is happy and sunny
Friday's child is like a king
Saturday's child can dance and sing
Sunday's child can stand on her head
And count the ghosts under her bed!
- В понедельник кто рождён,
- Добрый, медленный как слон.
- Кто во вторник — непоседа.
- В среду — насмешит соседа.
- Кто в четверг — похож на солнце.
- В пятницу — как царь в оконце.
- Кто в субботу попадёт -
- Сам и спляшет и споёт.
- У рождённых в воскресенье -
- Под кроватью привиденья!
My House
Let's go to my house.
Let's go today.
I'll show you all the rooms
Where we work and play.
Here is the kitchen
Where Mother cooks for me.
Here is the living room
Where I watch TV.
Here is the dining room.
We eat here every day.
And this room is my room
Where I sleep and play.
The Toy Shop
I can see balls and bats and cars.
I can see boats and planes.
I can see carts, skipping ropes, dolls.
I can see ships and trains.
I can see games and tops and lorries.
I can see bear and bikes.
I can see swings and slides and skates.
I can see drums and kites.
Of all the toys I can see,
I want one for me!
What Are Little Boys Made of?
What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails,
And puppy-dogs' tails;
That's what little boys are made of.
What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice,
and all that's nice;
That's what little girls are made of.
Can You Tell Me
Can you tell me,
Can you tell me,
What little boys do?
They run and jump.
They run and jump,
So I will jump too.
Can you tell me,
Can you tell me,
What little girls do?
They dance and skip,
They dance and skip,
So I will skip too.
Can you tell me,
Can you tell me,
What little soldiers do?
They fight and march,
They fight and march,
So I will march too.
Can you tell me,
Can you tell me,
What little people do?
They play and work,
They play and work,
So I will work too.
Can you tell me,
Can you tell me,
What little babies do?
They eat and sleep,
They eat and sleep,
So I will sleep too.
Christmas is coming.
Christmas is coming.
Christmas is coming,
The geese are getting fat,
Please put a penny
In the old man's hat.
If you haven't got a penny,
A ha'penny will do.
If you haven't got a ha'penny,
Then God bless you.
Christmas is coming.
Christmas is coming.
It's Christmas!
It's Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Yes, it's merry, merry Christmas,
it's time for hanging stockings,
It's time for riding sleighs,
It's time for jolly greeting,
Snow and holly, overeating,
Oh, I love you merry Christmas,
You're the best of holidays
I Have Six Honest Serving-Men
I have six honest serving-men:
(They taught me all I knew)
Their names are What and Where and When
And How and Why and Who
I send them over land and sea,
I send them east and west;
But after they have worked for me,
I give them all a rest.
I let them rest from nine till five.
For I am busy then,
As well as breakfast, lunch, and tea,
For they are hungry men:
But different folk have different views:
I know a person small -
She keeps ten million serving-men,
Who get no rest at all!
She sends them abroad on her own affairs,
From the second she opens her eyes -
One million Hows, two million Wheres,
And seven million Whys!
A crooked man
There was a crooked man
Who walked a crooked mile.
He found a crooked sixpence
Against a crooked stile.
He bought a crooked cat
Which caught a crooked mouse,
And they all lived together
In a crooked little house.
Green Giant
There lived a green giant whose name was Sam.
His hair was the colour of strawberry jam.
He had one brown and one blue eye,
And a beard the colour of pumpkin pie.
His coat and pants were gay and bright,
Like a peppermint stick, all red and white.
His shoes were as brown as a chocolate drop.
His stockings were yellow as lemon pop.
His hat was the colour of ginger bread
With a tall, tall feather of raspberry red.
CLASSIC POEMS FOR CHILDREN
At the Seaside
~Robert Louis Stevenson
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup,
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
Little Things
~Julia A. Carney
Little drops of water,
Little drains of sand,
Make the mighty ocean
And the beauteous land.
And the little moments,
Humble though they be,
Make the mighty ages
Of eternity.
So our little errors
Lead the soul away,
From the paths of virtue
Into sin to stray.
Little deeds of kindness,
Little words of love,
Make our earth an Eden,
Like the heaven above.
The Star
~Jane Taylor
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Then the traveler in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.
In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut you eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveler in the dark-
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Eletelephony
By Elizabeth Howe Richard
Once there was an elephant,
Who tried to use the telephant--
No! no! I mean an elephone
Who tried to use the telephone--
(Dear me! I am not certain quite
That even now I've got it right.)
Howe'er it was, he got his trunk
Entangled in the telephunk;
The more he tried to get it free,
The louder buzzed the telephee--
I fear I'd better drop the song
Of elephop and telephong!)
By A.A. Milne
Teddy Bear
A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at;
He gets what exercise he can
By falling off the ottoman,
But generally seems to lack
The energy to clamber back.
Now tubbiness is just the thing
Which gets a fellow wondering;
And Teddy worried lots about
The fact that he was rather stout.
He thought: "If only I were thin!
But how does anyone begin?"
He thought: "It really isn't fair
To grudge me exercise and air."
For many weeks he pressed in vain
His nose against the window-pane,
And envied those who walked about
Reducing their unwanted stout.
None of the people he could see
"Is quite" (he said) "as fat as me!"
Then with a still more moving sigh,
"I mean" (he said) "as fat as I!"
Now Teddy, as was only right,
Slept in the ottoman at night,
And with him crowded in as well
More animals than I can tell;
Not only these, but books and things,
Such as a kind relation brings -
Old tales of "Once upon a time",
And history retold in rhyme.
One night it happened that he took
A peep at an old picture-book,
Wherein he came across by chance
The picture of a King of France
(A stoutish man) and, down below,
These words: "King Louis So and So,
Nicknamed 'The Handsome!' " There he sat,
And (think of it) the man was fat!
Our bear rejoiced like anything
To read about this famous King,
Nicknamed the "Handsome." Not a doubt
The man was definitely stout.
Why then, a bear (for all his tub)
Might yet be named "The Handsome Cub!"
"Might yet be named." Or did he mean
That years ago he "might have been"?
For now he felt a slight misgiving:
"Is Louis So and So still living?
Fashions in beauty have a way
Of altering from day to day.
Is 'Handsome Louis' with us yet?
Unfortunately I forget."
Next morning (nose to window-pane)
The doubt occurred to him again.
One question hammered in his head:
"Is he alive or is he dead?"
Thus, nose to pane, he pondered; but
The lattice window, loosely shut,
Swung open. With one startled "Oh!"
Our Teddy disappeared below.
There happened to be passing by
A plump man with a twinkling eye,
Who, seeing Teddy in the street,
Raised him politely on his feet,
And murmured kindly in his ear
Soft words of comfort and of cheer:
"Well, well!" "Allow me!" "Not at all."
"Tut-tut!" A very nasty fall."
Our Teddy answered not a word;
It's doubtful if he even heard.
Our bear could only look and look:
The stout man in the picture-book!
That "handsome" King - could this be he,
This man of adiposity?
"Impossible," he thought. "But still,
No harm in asking. Yes, I will!"
"Are you," he said, "by any chance
His Majesty the King of France?"
The other answered, "I am that,"
Bowed stiffly, and removed his hat;
Then said, "Excuse me," with an air
"But is it Mr. Edward Bear?"
And Teddy, bending very low,
Replied politely, "Even so!"
They stood beneath the window there,
The King and Mr. Edward Bear,
And, handsome, if a trifle fat,
Talked carelessly of this and that ...
Then said His Majesty, "Well, well,
I must get on," and rang the bell.
"Your bear, I think," he smiled. "Good-day!"
And turned, and went upon his way.
A bear, however hard he tries,
Grows tubby without exercise.
Our Teddy Bear is short and fat,
Which is not to be wondered at.
But do you think it worries him
To know that he is far from slim?
No, just the other way about -
He's proud of being short and stout.
Friends By Abbie Farwell Brown
Abbie Farwell Brown was an American author who lived from 1871-1927. While attending the Girls’ Latin School, she created a school newspaper, The Jabberwock, which is still being published today. In the poem “Friends,” Brown shares that even things in nature can be children’s friends, giving them comfort whenever they fear.
How good to lie a little while
And look up through the tree!
The Sky is like a kind big smile
Bent sweetly over me.
The Sunshine flickers through the lace
Of leaves above my head,
And kisses me upon the face
Like Mother, before bed.
The Wind comes stealing o'er the grass
To whisper pretty things;
And though I cannot see him pass,
I feel his careful wings.
So many gentle Friends are near
Whom one can scarcely see,
A child should never feel a fear,
Wherever he may be.
Dirty Face By Shel Silverstein
Shel Silverstein, who died in 1999 was a singer, song writer, poet and author of many children's books. "Dirty Face" is a fun poem to read for both children and adults. Silverstein reminisces fondly about the carefree childhood existence.
Where did you get such a dirty face,
My darling dirty-faced child?
I got it from crawling along in the dirt
And biting two buttons off Jeremy’s shirt.
I got it from chewing the roots of a rose
And digging for clams in the yard with my nose.
I got it from peeking into a dark cave
And painting myself like a Navajo brave.
I got it from playing with coal in the bin
And signing my name in cement with my chin.
I got if from rolling around on the rug
And giving the horrible dog a big hug.
I got it from finding a lost silver mine
And eating sweet blackberries right off the vine.
I got it from ice cream and wrestling and tears
And from having more fun than you’ve had in years.
Daddy Fell into the Pond
a poem by Alfred Noyes
Everyone grumbled. The sky was grey.
We had nothing to do and nothing to say.
We were nearing the end of a dismal day,
And then there seemed to be nothing beyond,
Then
Daddy fell into the pond!
And everyone's face grew merry and bright,
And Timothy danced for sheer delight.
"Give me the camera, quick, oh quick!
He's crawling out of the duckweed!" Click!
Then the gardener suddenly slapped his knee,
And doubled up, shaking silently,
And the ducks all quacked as if they were daft,
And it sounded as if the old drake laughed.
Oh, there wasn't a thing that didn't respond
When
Daddy Fell into the pond!
