Wee Willie Winkie
Runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs in his night gown,
Rapping at the windows,
Crying through the locks,
I’ve lost my keys, my feet are cold,
THERE ARE HOLES IN MY SOCKS!
Tag Archives: Nursery rhyme
Wee Willie Winkie – Take Two
Here we go Round the Mulberry Bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush on a cold and frosty morning
*
This is the way jump out of bed, jump out of bed, jump out of bed
This is the way jump out of bed on a cold and frosty morning
*
Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush on a cold and frosty morning
*
This is the way we run downstairs, run downstairs, run downstairs
This is the way we run downstairs on a cold and frosty morning
*
Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush on a cold and frosty morning
*
This is the way we mitch from school, mitch from school, mitch from school
This is the way we mitch from school on a cold and frosty morning
*
Here we go round the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush, the mulberry bush
Here we go round the mulberry bush on a cold and frosty morning
*
Here we go gathering nuts in May, nuts in May, nuts in May
Here we go gathering nuts in May away from school this morning
*
‘Oh, those naughty, naughty children!’
Mary had a ‘Little’ Lamb
Mary had a ‘little’ lamb so round, so fat and plump,
It tried to follow her everywhere but it couldn’t even jump.
*
One day when Mary was not at home it set off in a trot,
Searching all about the place to see just where she’d got.
*
Despite it searching everywhere the poor lamb could not see,
That Mary had eloped and gone with Jill’s young Jack, hee, hee.
A Troll in a Hole
The Troll in a Hole
Bolf was a troll
Who lived in a hole,
Doing nothing at all,
Or so I am told,
**********
One day while alone,
In his dank little home,
A stick falling into the hole,
Struck his troll dome.
**********
Grabbing hold of the stick,
Bolf made ready to hit,
The culprit, the thick,
Who played the cruel trick,
**********
But on gazing outside,
His dank little hide,
Bolf saw no one in sight,
With his beady troll eyes.
**********
Then he saw the fine day,
Not damp and all grey,
Like his hole in the clay,
That he thought was okay.
**********
Climbing out of his hole,
Bolf fell in love with it all,
The beautiful world,
God’s gift to us all.
**********
Is a nit like a gnat?
Is a nit like a gnat?
Can you wear it on your hat?
Do you pick it off a tree?
Or like a scab upon your knee?
Might you pick it like a rose?
Or can a nit grow in your nose?
**********
Do I stay in to pick a nit
Or go out and throw a fit?
Wait, wait! …
How do you throw a fit?
I wonder if throwing a fit
Might be like picking a nit?
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