Jeremy Jones Poem by Cleveland W. Gibson

Gypsy Rhonda from Wales, eyes
as black as coal, looked into the
Parson's soul. She warned: “Sky
is red, sea is blue, beware of
Jeremy or he'll eat you. He's a boy
that can make you cry. Should he
laugh, a Devil's laugh you'll be the
first to die. His head, I've heard is
filled with stones, he rattles when
he walks, does Jeremy Jones. His
mother said when he was born, oh
my! Oh my! He's the Devil's
spawn. He's two left feet, with
such a stupid grin, on Sunday
what can we do with him? A look
he'll cast and the cows go dry, no
milk for the babies, it's no wonder
they cry.”

The Parson replied, ” What you say
is true but we found his talent to
cook comes through. Fancy some
Lardy cake or buttered Scones,
all baked by our junior chef
Jeremy Jones? ”