Sub - Bus

Yesterday, I took a trip on a submarine-bus,
the driver was a diver in a deep sea diving suit;
the bus conductor was a long tentacled octopus
and round about the Bermuda Triangle ran our route;
and sitting by my side a mermaid read her magazine
while I gazed, awe-struck, at a wonderous underwater scene.

I saw a gabbing clan of clams clasping their mobile phones;
a dolphin dressed in golfing gear hitting a hole in one;
a squid who’d just won sixty quid upon a sea horse race
was buying his goldfish girlfriend a pretty pearl necklace
and, selling stocks and shares, were sharp toothed sharks in pin-stripe suits
while common, cockney cockles with market stalls sold sea-fruit.

But then a bus stop came in sight and I rushed from the bus,
“Oi you! You haven’t paid your fare”, yelled the gruff Octopus.
Pursued by him, I swam and swam and, through the water, hurtled
but, just in time, I caught a tram that was driven by a turtle.
The Octopus shook all his fists and growled something obscene.
I think that will be my last trip on a bus-submarine.