Family Skeleton

‘I am pure, forever now,’

The words scratched on a skull,

That I dug up one morning

In a garden, back in Hull.

I didn’t know just who it was

Or where the skull had been,

The skull itself the only one

That knew what it had seen.

 

There were no other bones, they were

All missing, neck to toe,

Perhaps they’d gone on walkabout

And said, ‘We’ll let you know!’

The skull was left to rest in peace

Beneath a flower bed,

Where jonquils wavered in the breeze

Above this lonely head.

 

The bed was bound by sleepers

That were there before the time

My grandparents had owned the house -

Who covered up this crime?

They must have known, had surely known

Whose head it was, deceased,

Before they laid that garden bed

Hacked off the head, at least!

 

For someone scraped those five short words

Bit deep into the bone,

Had used the knife that cut its throat?

Or merely, some sharp stone.

I held the skull beneath the tap

To wash away the dirt,

The empty sockets stared at me

Relentless, in their hurt.

 

Was this a male or female skull?

I found it hard to say,

The teeth were young and pearly white

I called it ‘she’ that day,

Old Jeb, the gardener came round

And saw, and burst in tears,

‘I haven’t seen that pretty smile

In more than fifty years!’

 

‘Her name was Clementine,’ he said,

‘A little pantry maid,

Back in the days of service when

We all were underpaid,

When I was just a lad myself

And new into the fold,

Your crusty great grandfather ruled,

Old Ebenezer Gold!’

 

‘We weren’t allowed to mix back then,

We slept on different floors,

He took a special interest in

The womenfolk, indoors.

He’d stalk around at midnight, checking

Under every bed,

Would threaten us with vengeance from

The Lord above, he said.’

 

‘I’d meet with Clementine outside,

We’d use the potting shed,

She’d tease and tempt me daily, dare me

Sneak into her bed,

Then one day she came crying, but

She wouldn’t tell me why,

Just said that Ebenezer was

A sneak, a dirty spy!’

 

‘I thought she must have got the sack,

She simply disappeared,

And nobody would mention her

Their lips were sealed, I fear.

He really had a hold on us

He oversaw the plots,

And said I had to seed that bed

With blue Forget-Me-Nots.’

 

He died near forty years ago

So Jeb and I agreed,

There wasn’t any point to raise

A scandal, without need,

I told him to put back the skull,

He cried, and kissed it lots;

Pulled out the jonquils, planted seeds

Of blue Forget-Me-Nots!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[annie lee]

Oh, my ... What an incredible poem telling such a story! You draw these characters so expertly as you create the lines that flow and read so easily while they are also lyrical and rhyming. I stand in awe of your skill, sir. This story is just a glimpse into what could be a saga; it certainly piqued my writer's instincts. Brilliant.

[Tom]

A skeleton albeit a skull best left in the cupboard.. or should that be flowerbed ?

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

With the names Jeb and Clementine, you immediately create the sound and tone for the scene of this heinous crime. Combine that with the great grandfather's name, Ebenezer Gold, and you really bring home the repulsiveness of his soul. Finally, you plant the seeds of Forget-Me-Nots that we might never forget the tale. Wonderful!

[Tate Morgan]

Ill never understand the class system Nor the pains it lays upon the doorsteps of every man woman and child

[TL Boehm]

Such a unique and wrenching tale of thwarted love. to think it was so vivid a man would recognise the smile on a skull...wow.

[Emerald Seas]

A well crafted tale of woe, hardship, and obvious abuse. Nice cadence as always, David.

[Marie]

Poor Clementine...obviously she was badly used...but at rest now under blue forget-me-nots...