Kids love nonsense poems and these are so entertaining. Free downloads from the Tale Teller Club every day mean educating children can be easy and fun.

the walrus and the carpenter by lewis carroll from the best nonsense verses chosen by josephine dodge dascum this librivox recording is in the public domain the sun was shining on the sea shining with all his might he did his very best to make the billows smooth and bright and this was odd because it was the middle of the night the moon was shining sulkily because she thought the sun had got no business to be there after the day was done it is very rude of him she said to come and spoil the fun

the sea was wet as wet could be the sands were dry as dry you could not see a cloud because no cloud was in the sky no birds were flying overhead there were no birds to fly the walrus and the carpenter were walking close at hand they wept like anything to see such quantities of sand if this were only cleared away they said it would be grand and seven maids with seven mops swept it for half a year do you suppose the walrus said that they could get it clear i doubt it said the carpenter and shed a bitter tear

oh oysters come and walk with us the walrus did besiege a pleasant walk a pleasant talk along the briny beach we cannot do with more than four to give a hand to the eldest oyster looked at him but never a word he said the eldest oyster winked his eye and shook his heavy head meaning to say he did not choose to leave the oyster bed but four young oysters hurried up all eager for the treat their coats were brushed their faces washed their shoes were clean and neat and this was odd because you know they hadn't any feet four other oysters followed them and yet another four and thick and fast they came at last and more and more and more all hopping through the frothy waves and scrambling to the shore the walrus and the carpenter walked on a mile or so and then they rested on a rock conveniently low and all the little oysters stood and waited in a row the time has come the walrus said to talk of many things of shoes and ships and sealing wax of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings but wait a bit the oysters cried before we have our chat for some of us are out of breath and all of us are fat no hurry said the carpenter they thanked him much for that a loaf of bread the walrus said is what we chiefly need pepper and vinegar besides are very good indeed now if you're ready oysters dear we can begin to feed but not on us the oysters cried turning a little blue after such kindness that would be a dismal thing to do

the night is fine the walrus said do you admire the view it was so kind of you to come and you are very nice the carpenter said nothing but cut us another slice i wish you were not quite so deaf i had to ask you twice it seems a shame the walrus said to play them such a trick after we've brought them out so far and made them trot so quick the carpenter said nothing but the butter spread too thick i weep for you the walrus said i deeply sympathize with sobs and tears he sorted out those of the largest size holding his pocket handkerchief before his streaming eyes oh oysters said the carpenter you've had a pleasant run shall we be trotting home again but answer came there none and this was scarcely odd because they'd eaten every one end of the walrus and the carpenter by lewis carroll recording by grace buchanan of weavergrace.com

Kids love nonsense poems and these are so entertaining. Free downloads from the Tale Teller Club every day mean educating children can be easy and fun.

the walrus and the carpenter by lewis carroll from the best nonsense verses chosen by josephine dodge dascum this librivox recording is in the public domain the sun was shining on the sea shining with all his might he did his very best to make the billows smooth and bright and this was odd because it was the middle of the night the moon was shining sulkily because she thought the sun had got no business to be there after the day was done it is very rude of him she said to come and spoil the fun

the sea was wet as wet could be the sands were dry as dry you could not see a cloud because no cloud was in the sky no birds were flying overhead there were no birds to fly the walrus and the carpenter were walking close at hand they wept like anything to see such quantities of sand if this were only cleared away they said it would be grand and seven maids with seven mops swept it for half a year do you suppose the walrus said that they could get it clear i doubt it said the carpenter and shed a bitter tear

oh oysters come and walk with us the walrus did besiege a pleasant walk a pleasant talk along the briny beach we cannot do with more than four to give a hand to the eldest oyster looked at him but never a word he said the eldest oyster winked his eye and shook his heavy head meaning to say he did not choose to leave the oyster bed but four young oysters hurried up all eager for the treat their coats were brushed their faces washed their shoes were clean and neat and this was odd because you know they hadn't any feet four other oysters followed them and yet another four and thick and fast they came at last and more and more and more all hopping through the frothy waves and scrambling to the shore the walrus and the carpenter walked on a mile or so and then they rested on a rock conveniently low and all the little oysters stood and waited in a row the time has come the walrus said to talk of many things of shoes and ships and sealing wax of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wings but wait a bit the oysters cried before we have our chat for some of us are out of breath and all of us are fat no hurry said the carpenter they thanked him much for that a loaf of bread the walrus said is what we chiefly need pepper and vinegar besides are very good indeed now if you're ready oysters dear we can begin to feed but not on us the oysters cried turning a little blue after such kindness that would be a dismal thing to do

the night is fine the walrus said do you admire the view it was so kind of you to come and you are very nice the carpenter said nothing but cut us another slice i wish you were not quite so deaf i had to ask you twice it seems a shame the walrus said to play them such a trick after we've brought them out so far and made them trot so quick the carpenter said nothing but the butter spread too thick i weep for you the walrus said i deeply sympathize with sobs and tears he sorted out those of the largest size holding his pocket handkerchief before his streaming eyes oh oysters said the carpenter you've had a pleasant run shall we be trotting home again but answer came there none and this was scarcely odd because they'd eaten every one end of the walrus and the carpenter by lewis carroll recording by grace buchanan of weavergrace.com

Why do some of like poetry? Why do some of us find it dull?
This is an interesting listen for wordsmiths and writers alike.

what's the use of poetry by richard lagelien from the world's best poetry volume seven descriptive narrative part one this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org recording by adrian stevens craig franklin sonja thomas peter and jason in canada what's the use of poetry and idly tuned for the loquacious throng flutter and twitter prodigal of time and little masters make a toy of song till grave men weary of the sound of ryam william watson in wordsworth's grave there is no doubt that many one might almost say most people are firmly convinced that they do not care for poetry they have no use for it they tell you either it bores them there's a fantastic highflown method of saying something that to their way of thinking could be better said in plain prose or they look upon it as the sentimental nonsense of the moonstruck and lovesick young a kind of intellectual candy all very well for women and children but of no value to grown men with the serious work of the world on their shoulders it is not at all difficult to account for and indeed to sympathize with this attitude to begin with of course there is a large class outside our present considerations which does not care for poetry simply because it does not care for any literature whatsoever serious reading of any kind does not enter into its scheme of life beyond the newspapers and magazines and an occasional novel of the hour i'd be taken up and indifferently put aside it has no literary needs with this listless multitude we have not to concern ourselves but rather with that sufficiently heterogeneous body known as the reading public the people for whom mr carnegie builds libraries and the publishers display their wares of course among these there must necessarily be considerable percentage temperamentally unappreciative of poetry just as there are numbers of people born with no ear for music and numbers again born with no colour sense the lover of poetry is no less born than the pert himself yet as the purge is made as well as born so is his reader there are many who really love poetry without knowing it but who think they do not care for it either because they have contracted the wrong notion of what poetry is or because they have some time or other made a bad start with the wrong kind i'm convinced that one widespread provocative of the prevailing impression of the foolishness of poetry is the mediocre magazine verse of the day in an age when we go so much to the magazines for our reading we may rely on finding there the best work being done in every branch of literature except the highest the best novelists the best historians and the best essayists right for the magazines but the best poets must be looked for in their high-priced volumes and a magazine reader must rely for his verse on lady amateurs and tuned for college boys thus he too often approaches poetry not through the great masters but through the little misses he forms his naturally contemptuous notion of poetry from feeble echoes and insipid imitations no wonder therefore that he should refuse to waste his good eyesight on anything in the shape of verse and should conceive of poetry as a mild mental dissipation for young ladies a sickly sweet meat made of molasses and moonshine if the magazine editors of the world would only bind themselves to publish novers except the best and failing to obtain a contemporary supply of the best would fill their spare corners of space with reprints of the old fine things i am convinced that they would do a great deal toward rectifying this widespread misconception of an art which far from being trivial and superficial is of all the arts the most serious and most vitally human i'm not saying that all poetry is for all readers there is a section...

Why do some of like poetry? Why do some of us find it dull?
This is an interesting listen for wordsmiths and writers alike.

what's the use of poetry by richard lagelien from the world's best poetry volume seven descriptive narrative part one this is a librivox recording all librivox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit librivox.org recording by adrian stevens craig franklin sonja thomas peter and jason in canada what's the use of poetry and idly tuned for the loquacious throng flutter and twitter prodigal of time and little masters make a toy of song till grave men weary of the sound of ryam william watson in wordsworth's grave there is no doubt that many one might almost say most people are firmly convinced that they do not care for poetry they have no use for it they tell you either it bores them there's a fantastic highflown method of saying something that to their way of thinking could be better said in plain prose or they look upon it as the sentimental nonsense of the moonstruck and lovesick young a kind of intellectual candy all very well for women and children but of no value to grown men with the serious work of the world on their shoulders it is not at all difficult to account for and indeed to sympathize with this attitude to begin with of course there is a large class outside our present considerations which does not care for poetry simply because it does not care for any literature whatsoever serious reading of any kind does not enter into its scheme of life beyond the newspapers and magazines and an occasional novel of the hour i'd be taken up and indifferently put aside it has no literary needs with this listless multitude we have not to concern ourselves but rather with that sufficiently heterogeneous body known as the reading public the people for whom mr carnegie builds libraries and the publishers display their wares of course among these there must necessarily be considerable percentage temperamentally unappreciative of poetry just as there are numbers of people born with no ear for music and numbers again born with no colour sense the lover of poetry is no less born than the pert himself yet as the purge is made as well as born so is his reader there are many who really love poetry without knowing it but who think they do not care for it either because they have contracted the wrong notion of what poetry is or because they have some time or other made a bad start with the wrong kind i'm convinced that one widespread provocative of the prevailing impression of the foolishness of poetry is the mediocre magazine verse of the day in an age when we go so much to the magazines for our reading we may rely on finding there the best work being done in every branch of literature except the highest the best novelists the best historians and the best essayists right for the magazines but the best poets must be looked for in their high-priced volumes and a magazine reader must rely for his verse on lady amateurs and tuned for college boys thus he too often approaches poetry not through the great masters but through the little misses he forms his naturally contemptuous notion of poetry from feeble echoes and insipid imitations no wonder therefore that he should refuse to waste his good eyesight on anything in the shape of verse and should conceive of poetry as a mild mental dissipation for young ladies a sickly sweet meat made of molasses and moonshine if the magazine editors of the world would only bind themselves to publish novers except the best and failing to obtain a contemporary supply of the best would fill their spare corners of space with reprints of the old fine things i am convinced that they would do a great deal toward rectifying this widespread misconception of an art which far from being trivial and superficial is of all the arts the most serious and most vitally human i'm not saying that all poetry is for all readers there is a section...

The soundtrack to the first Fanny Blomme Film by the Tale Teller Club.


Here are the YouTube auto subtitles....they are not very good so I recommend you watch the film instead to get a real feel for the story.


the world won't last without me for i am fanny blonde i am

morag was a young and simple girl of seventeen a dark beehive balanced precariously atop her small frame and her pale scottish skin was almost see-through under the heavy merry quant coal she drapes the aisles of the supermarket holding her hard baby-filled belly the sailor who had married her nine months prior was pleased with his work and morag was thus far grateful for the escape route to better things

then the waters came a torrent of bloody slime that rushed down morag's legs and drenched her pumps a sharp pain caused a high-pitched yelp from the young girl as she lifted her hand-made smock in terror little morak from the village began to growl like a beast echoes of the menacing base notes reverberated between the freezers vegetables scattered in slow motion

the pain was unbearable she thought she saw jesus amongst the harvest as she lay next to the forage box and stared at the oaks in the field with the quaker man someone who seemed to know what they were doing removed morax pants and screamed it's crowning get the water and towels fanny felt all the commotion and woke up something seemed to be squeezing her body tightly although it was not unpleasant she was not pleased with being woken in this manner she tried to speak might i suggest that there is already enough water in the vicinity but no one heard as she was not yet born and she had no voice besides there was a lot of noise and mayhem going on what is that terrible growling she wondered marilyn monroe was drunk on life and sang happy birthday to jfk walmart opened its first store in arkansas and the technological revolution waited at the gates of morag's vagina to lead another of the generation x children through the disaffected years

the world won't last without me for i am fanny blonde

The soundtrack to the first Fanny Blomme Film by the Tale Teller Club.


Here are the YouTube auto subtitles....they are not very good so I recommend you watch the film instead to get a real feel for the story.


the world won't last without me for i am fanny blonde i am

morag was a young and simple girl of seventeen a dark beehive balanced precariously atop her small frame and her pale scottish skin was almost see-through under the heavy merry quant coal she drapes the aisles of the supermarket holding her hard baby-filled belly the sailor who had married her nine months prior was pleased with his work and morag was thus far grateful for the escape route to better things

then the waters came a torrent of bloody slime that rushed down morag's legs and drenched her pumps a sharp pain caused a high-pitched yelp from the young girl as she lifted her hand-made smock in terror little morak from the village began to growl like a beast echoes of the menacing base notes reverberated between the freezers vegetables scattered in slow motion

the pain was unbearable she thought she saw jesus amongst the harvest as she lay next to the forage box and stared at the oaks in the field with the quaker man someone who seemed to know what they were doing removed morax pants and screamed it's crowning get the water and towels fanny felt all the commotion and woke up something seemed to be squeezing her body tightly although it was not unpleasant she was not pleased with being woken in this manner she tried to speak might i suggest that there is already enough water in the vicinity but no one heard as she was not yet born and she had no voice besides there was a lot of noise and mayhem going on what is that terrible growling she wondered marilyn monroe was drunk on life and sang happy birthday to jfk walmart opened its first store in arkansas and the technological revolution waited at the gates of morag's vagina to lead another of the generation x children through the disaffected years

the world won't last without me for i am fanny blonde

For little listeners, part of my English Governess live series from the Music School at Royal Clarence.
I love reciting these.

the three little kittens they lost their mittens by mother goose read by the english governess

the three little kittens they lost their mittens and they began to cry oh mother dear we sadly fear that we have lost our mittens what lost your mittens you naughty kittens then you shall have no pie meow meow meow then you shall have no pie the three little kittens they found their mittens and they began to cry oh mother dear see here see here for we have found our mittens put on your mittens you silly kittens and you shall have some pie

oh let us have some pie the three little kittens put on their mittens and soon ate up the pie oh mother dear we greatly fear that we have soiled our mittens what soiled your mittens you naughty kittens then they began to sigh meow meow meow then they began to sigh the three little kittens they washed their mittens and hung them out to dry oh mother dear do you not hear that we have washed our mittens what washed your mittens then you're good kittens but i smell a rat close by meow meow meow we smell a rat close by

For little listeners, part of my English Governess live series from the Music School at Royal Clarence.
I love reciting these.

the three little kittens they lost their mittens by mother goose read by the english governess

the three little kittens they lost their mittens and they began to cry oh mother dear we sadly fear that we have lost our mittens what lost your mittens you naughty kittens then you shall have no pie meow meow meow then you shall have no pie the three little kittens they found their mittens and they began to cry oh mother dear see here see here for we have found our mittens put on your mittens you silly kittens and you shall have some pie

oh let us have some pie the three little kittens put on their mittens and soon ate up the pie oh mother dear we greatly fear that we have soiled our mittens what soiled your mittens you naughty kittens then they began to sigh meow meow meow then they began to sigh the three little kittens they washed their mittens and hung them out to dry oh mother dear do you not hear that we have washed our mittens what washed your mittens then you're good kittens but i smell a rat close by meow meow meow we smell a rat close by

A favourite for obvious reasons.
The Owl And The Pussy Cat Read By The ENGLISH GOVERNESS Free Kids Audio Books

A favourite for obvious reasons.
The Owl And The Pussy Cat Read By The ENGLISH GOVERNESS Free Kids Audio Books