The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

The Bureau of Dreams to be Continued

Page 350

Says Simple Simon to the pie man,

Sir I haven't any.

Simple Simon went a-fishing,

For to catch a whale;

All the water he had got,

Was in his mother's pail.

Simple Simon went to look

If plums grew on a thistle;

He pricked his fingers very much,

Which made poor Simon whistle.

He went for water in a sieve

But soon it all fell through

And now poor Simple Simon

Bids you all adieu!

Old King Cole

Old King Cole was a merry old soul,

And a merry old soul was he;

He called for his pipe, and he called for his bowl,

And he called for his fiddlers three.

Every fiddler he had a fiddle,

And a very fine fiddle had he;

Oh, there's none so rare, as can compare,

With King Cole and his fiddlers three.

Each rhyme is presented on a full or half page, accompanied by lush, full-color illustrations that bring the verses to life with humor, warmth, and a touch of mischief.