The Big Book of Nursery Rhymes

The Cuckoo

In April,
Come he will.

In May,
He sings all day.

In June,
He changes his tune.

In July,
He prepares to fly.

In August,
Go he must.

A Swarm of Bees

A swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay;
A swarm of bees in June
Is worth a silver spoon;
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly.