Grimsby Poets Forums

Young children are all natural poets and love their Nursery Rhymes, so to take you back to childhood here are a few ;

Little Bo Peep

Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep
And doesn't know where to find them.
Leave them alone and they'll come home,
Bringing their tails behind them.
Little Bo Peep fell fast asleep
And dreamt she heard them bleating,
But when she awoke, she found it a joke,
For they were all still fleeting.
Then up she took her little crook
Determined for to find them.
She found them indeed, but it made her heart bleed,
For they left their tails behind them.
It happened one day, as Bo Peep did stray
Into a meadow hard by,
There she espied their tails side by side
All hung on a tree to dry.
She heaved a sigh, and wiped her eye,
And over the hillocks went rambling,
And tried what she could, as a shepherdess should,
To tack again each to its lambkin.


Hickory Dickory Dock

Hickory dickory dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
The mouse ran down
Hickory dickory dock


Baa Baa Black Sheep

Baa baa black sheep, have you any wool?
Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full!
One for the master, one for the dame,
And one for the little boy who lives 
down the lane.

Humpty Dumpty
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall;
All the king's horses
And all the kings men,
Couldn't put Humpty together again.

Baa, Baa, Black Sheep.
(See my poem on the poetry site.)

Sing a Song of Sixpence.

Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye;
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened,
The birds began to sing;
Now wasn't that a dainty dish
To set before the King?
The King was in his counting house
Counting out his money;
The Queen was in the parlour
Eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden
Hanging out the clothes;
When down came a blackbird
And pecked off her nose.

Two Little Dicky Birds
Two little dicky birds sitting on a wall.
One named Peter, one named Paul;
Fly away, Peter! Fly away, Paul!
Come back, Peter! Come back, Paul.

Hi Clare, here are some more childhood rhymes

CRY BABY BUNTING

Was originally sung as a lullaby by nursing mothers to their children. The first written record of this song was in1784

Cry baby Bunting
Daddy’s gone a-hunting
Gone to fetch a rabbit skin
To wrap the baby bunting in

AS I WAS GOING TO St. IVES

Most people say that only one person was going to St. Ives. Read the poem and think about it. The man going to St. Ives could have been going faster than the man and his seven wives. Therefore everyone could have been going to St. Ives?
The earliest publication of this poem is 1730.

As I was going to St Ives I met a man with seven wives,
Each wife had seven sacks; each sack had seven cats,
Each cat had seven kits: kits, cats, sacks and wives,
How many were going to St. Ives?

JACK and JILL

Jack and Jill are rooted in French history. The roots of the story, or poem, referred to King Louis XVI - Jack -who was beheaded (lost his crown) followed by his Queen Marie Antoinette - Jill - (who came tumbling after). Words were added to make the poem more acceptable as a story for children by providing a happy ending! The first publication date for the lyrics of Jack and Jill is 1795. Two years after the beheading of the King and Queen.

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.
Up got Jack, and home did trot
As fast as he could caper
He went to bed and bound his head
With vinegar and brown paper

Yes very good John, and a very early one was Jack Sprat ;

Jack Sprat.

Jack Sprat could eat no fat
His wife could eat no lean
And so betwixt the two of them
They licked the platter clean.

Jack Sprat is said to be King Charles I and his wife Henrietta Maria. When King Charles (Jack Sprat) declared war on Spain, parliament refused to finance him (leaving him lean!) So his wife insisted on imposing an * war tax (to get some fat!) when the angered King (Jack Sprat) dissolved Parliament. The Jack Sprat nursery rhyme was first published in 1639 !

Hi Clare,
A friend of mine found an old nursery rhyme book.
On reading it I found the following rhymes
that I can’t remember ever hearing.
Silky

IF ALL THE WORLD

If all the world was paper,
And all the seas were ink,
If all the trees were bread and cheese,
What should we have to drink.


THE MAN IN THE MOON

The man in the moon,
Came down too soon,
And asked the way to Norwich.
He went to the south,
And burnt his mouth,
While eating cold plum porridge.


I SAW A SHIP A SAILING

I saw a ship a sailing,
A sailing on the sea,
And it was fully laden
With pretty things for me.

There were sweeties in the cabin,
And apples in the hold.
The sails were made of silk
And the mast was made of gold.

The four and twenty sailors,
That ran along the decks,
Were four and twenty white mice
With chains about their necks.

The captain was a duck,
With stripes all down his back,
And when the ship began to move,
The Captain said, “Quack, quack!â€￾

The following rhyme I think we all know the first verse,
so here are the other two.

TWINKLE TWINKLE LITTLE STAR

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 as gone,
When he nothing shines upon.
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the nigh.

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for the tiny spark.
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

Very good John.
I don't recall hearing your second and third nursery rhymes, but your first I have come across in a slightly different version ;

If all the world

If all the world were apple pie,
And all the seas were ink,
And all the trees were bread and cheese,
What would we have to drink ?

Your version perhaps makes more sense !?

I came across this 'IF ALL' poem and do like it ,

If All The Skies

IF all the skies were sunshine,
Our faces would be fain
To feel once more upon them
The cooling splash of rain.

If all the world were music,
Our hearts would often long
For one sweet strain of silence,
To break the endless song.

If life were always merry,
Our souls would seek relief,
And rest from weary laughter
In the quiet arms of grief.

Henry Van Dyke