A Moroccan ogre, who serves similar child-frightening purpose to Bloodybones.
Boukhencha’s going to get you, dear
He’s coming with his sack
And if he takes you to his cave
You won’t be coming back.
He eats up little children there
The ones who never do
Just what their mothers tell them.
Yes, the ones, my dear, like you.
Who never help around the house,
But stay and play outside
Who say they were at school
And then you find out that they lied
Who never eat their vegetables,
But always gobble sweets;
For sweetened flesh is just the kind
Boukhencha loves to eat.
So listen to your mother, dear,
And always do your chores
And study hard at school
Instead of sneaking out of doors
And always eat your vegetables
Because, my dear, it’s true:
Boukhencha hates the way they taste
Almost as much as you!
Tom Juniper Poetry 