Jackson Jones

Jackson Jones

Jackson Jones

Had too many bones

Too many bones it’s true

He just didn’t know what to do

He hid them in drawers

Piled behind doors

Stuffed in his shed

Under his bed

In a box

Down his socks

He was running out of room

His house turning into a tomb!

If only his dad had a different job

There’s so many ways to earn a few bob

He asked his dad every day

And his dad would always say

‘Would you prefer I was a shop keep?

My boy I would never sleep!

Or maybe I should drive a bus

Could you imagine the fuss?

Learning the routes, following a map

My boy when would I ever nap?

Or perhaps I should go away

Working on the sea every day

My boy should I be an oil rigger?

No I am a Grave Digger!

And you’ll be one too

It’s the only job the Jones men can do!’

‘All these bones belong to us

Now boy don’t make a fuss

We are as rich as can be

Bones are very useful you see

These fingers from Betty Strife

When whittled will make a fabulous knife

This scull I took from Rory Tupp

Will make the most leak proof cup

The leg I took from Peter Hake

Will make the most marvellous rake!

Now stop asking me get off my back

Or do you want another smack!’

Jackson sighed in dismay

What was there to say?

If only his father took jewels, money or gold

Instead of bones covered in mould

Jackson just couldn’t see

Why bones filled his father with glee

Or why he used them to make everything

Right down to the kitchen sink

He couldn’t invite friends to his place

Their disgust he couldn’t face

Jackson was getting tired of it all

Like when his dad gave him a head for a ball

And told him to go out and play

All the children ran away!

How would he stop his dad

From being so, so bad

Stop him disturbing the dead

Oh the thought filled him with dread

But there was no stopping his Dad

And the thought drove him mad

So one night he snuck out of bed

Thoughts of helping in his head

He would stop his dad digging a grave

He would finally make him behave

He would make his dad understand

Things had gotten out of hand

Following in his fathers shadow

Jackson crept keeping low

Till finally they arrived

Behind a grave Jackson dived

Watching he saw the spade in the air

Hitting the ground his dad did declare

‘Oh Im a grave digger yes that’s me

Dug all these graves you do see

But all the bones are mine to keep

Taken from their eternal sleep!

I use these bones every day

I don’t care what you say

I make tables, chairs and phones

You can do so much with lovely bones

And with their hair and lungs and skin

To a stew I put them in

I eat these people every night

And none of them can put up a fight!’

His father laughed at the dead

That man is not right in the head

Ripping the bones from their resting place

He did so with a smile on his face

Jackson felt sick and ill and hot

His stomach churned and began to rot

Eating the bodies of the dead

In a stew with baked bread?

Jackson knew enough was enough

He was going to have to get tough

‘Dad’ He yelled loud as can be

‘Stop please, do it for me!

Don’t disturb the sleeping dead

let him keep his boney head!

We have no room there’s bones everywhere

Ive had to start piling them up in the air

And now you’re eating the bodies too?

What has gotten into you!

Stop now, I am at my wits end

Your behaviour I cannot defend!’

Mr Jones looked at his son

Trying to stop all of his fun

‘Listen Boy I told you so

Digging bones is all I know

If you try to stop me here

You’ll go in the ground have no fear

Ill put you down in a dark grave

Trust me no one is coming to save

Get back to the house you naughty child

Maybe my anger will soon mild

But don’t tell me how to life my life

All you get is pain and Strife!’

Jackson felt a rage so deep

Inside himself it just wouldn’t keep

He stared at his cruel, cruel dad

Inside he felt anger so mad

Screaming he ran towards the man

He didn’t really have a plan

He pushed so hard in his dads tum

Dad went tumbling down on his bum

Looking up Mr Jones glared at his son

Oh how he would have his fun

Mr Jones wanted to beat and hurt

But he couldn’t get up out of the dirt

Looking down he was shocked to see

A bony hand gripping tightly

another reached for his arm

Mr Jones felt the frisson of alarm

A hand grabbed the back of his head

Mr Jones felt the fingers of dread

‘Help me boy don’t stand still!’

Mr Jones’ shriek was very shrill

Jackson watched in horror and glee

Comeuppance was coming and he could see

The bones were fighting back

They were pulling Mr Jones down a crack

The Man yelled and screamed and cried

But the bones pulled and pulled until his yells died

Into the ground he sank so fast

Jackson knew his breathing would not last

His dad called his name, just a rasp

Then all he heard was his dads final gasp

Jackson ran home fast as can be

He gathered the bones so quickly

He took as many as he could

And ran back to that dark wood

He gave the bones back to their places

He only imagined their happy faces

Time and time again he went

Until his energy was spent

But at last the bones were free

And Jackson was so happy

As for Jackson the future was new

He didn’t know what he was going to do

‘Maybe I will be a shop keep

I don’t really need to sleep

Or maybe I will drive a bus

I actually like the fuss

Or maybe Ill be an oil rigger

But whatever I’ll be it Won’t be a grave digger!’