10 Best Famous Mother Goose Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Mother Goose poems. This is a select list of the best famous Mother Goose poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Mother Goose poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of mother goose poems.

• Mother Goose Poems
• Mother Goose Short Poems
• Mother Goose Biography

Higher than a house, higher than a tree.
Oh! whatever can that be?

A sunshiny shower
Won't last half an hour.

Shadows on the wall
Noises down the hall
Life doesn't frighten me at all
 
Bad dogs barking loud
Big ghosts in a cloud
Life doesn't frighten me at all
 
Mean old Mother Goose
Lions on the loose
They don't frighten me at all
 
Dragons breathing flame
On my counterpane
That doesn't frighten me at all.
 
I go boo
Make them shoo
I make fun
Way they run
I won't cry
So they fly
I just smile
They go wild
 
Life doesn't frighten me at all.
 
Tough guys fight
All alone at night
Life doesn't frighten me at all.
 
Panthers in the park
Strangers in the dark
No, they don't frighten me at all.
 
That new classroom where
Boys all pull my hair
(Kissy little girls
With their hair in curls)
They don't frighten me at all.
 
Don't show me frogs and snakes
And listen for my scream,
If I'm afraid at all
It's only in my dreams.
 
I've got a magic charm
That I keep up my sleeve
I can walk the ocean floor
And never have to breathe.
 
Life doesn't frighten me at all
Not at all
Not at all.
 
Life doesn't frighten me at all.

    The Queen of Hearts,
    She made some tarts,
All on a summer's day;
    The Knave of Hearts,
    He stole the tarts,
And took them clean away.

    The King of Hearts
    Called for the tarts,
And beat the Knave full sore;
    The Knave of Hearts
    Brought back the tarts,
And vowed he'd steal no more.

For want of a nail, the shoe was lost;
For want of the shoe, the horse was lost;
For want of the horse, the rider was lost;
For want of the rider, the battle was lost;
For want of the battle, the kingdom was lost,
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

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.

Ride away, ride away,
  Johnny shall ride,
And he shall have pussy-cat
  Tied to one side;
And he shall have little dog
  Tied to the other,
And Johnny shall ride
  To see his grandmother.

Thirty days hath September,
April, June, and November;
February has twenty-eight alone,
All the rest have thirty-one,
Excepting leap-year, that's the time
When February's days are twenty-nine.

What are little boys made of, made of?
What are little boys made of?
"Snaps and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails;
And that's what little boys are made of."

What are little girls made of, made of?
What are little girls made of?
"Sugar and spice, and all that's nice;
And that's what little girls are made of."

 The child alone a poet is:
Spring and Fairyland are his.
Truth and Reason show but dim,
And all’s poetry with him. 
Rhyme and music flow in plenty
For the lad of one-and-twenty, 
But Spring for him is no more now 
Than daisies to a munching cow; 
Just a cheery pleasant season, 
Daisy buds to live at ease on.
He’s forgotten how he smiled 
And shrieked at snowdrops when a child,
Or wept one evening secretly 
For April’s glorious misery. 
Wisdom made him old and wary
Banishing the Lords of Faery. 
Wisdom made a breach and battered 
Babylon to bits: she scattered 
To the hedges and ditches 
All our nursery gnomes and witches.
Lob and Puck, poor frantic elves, 
Drag their treasures from the shelves. 
Jack the Giant-killer’s gone, 
Mother Goose and Oberon, 
Bluebeard and King Solomon.
Robin, and Red Riding Hood 
Take together to the wood, 
And Sir Galahad lies hid 
In a cave with Captain Kidd. 
None of all the magic hosts,
None remain but a few ghosts 
Of timorous heart, to linger on 
Weeping for lost Babylon.