The Bongo Bus

Monty Snuffles was working hard

In his own little clockwork  building yard.

He expected the mice to arrive very soon.

He looked at the clock. It was almost noon.

He went to the yard, to the cause of the fuss:

A bright, shiny, mousical, clockwork bus!

He polished the windows, made the horn toot.

He kicked at the wheels with the back of his foot.

He picked up a pipe and attached it to

The exhaust at the back, and in it he blew.

His cheeks puffed out, his face turned red.

T’was a funny old sight, it has to be said.

When the mice arrived, just what had they found?

The bus was making a very odd sound.

They stopped at the gate, not sure what to do.

Just what was that noise they were listening to?

The noise stopped, and up popped Monty.

‘Hello gang!’ he shouted ‘I know you won’t be

Having any problems with the bus today.

I’ll fetch the key. We can be on our way.

I’ve just been checking her airways are clear.

If anything’s blocked I can usually hear.’

The mice all jumped inside the bus.

‘We can tour anywhere now. Look at us.’

The triangle trio all headed up top.

While Fiddlina jumped in with a delicate hop.

Monty returned looking terribly worried,

And round and round the bus he scurried.

‘Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh where can it be?

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I can’t find the key.’

The mice hurried off and helped look about.

They turned the bus almost inside out.

Then they saw Sachmo was still inside.

‘Come help,’ they said, ‘We can’t go for a ride

Until someone finds the bus clockwork key.

‘Well,’ said Sachmo, ‘Look no further than me.’

He hopped off the bus and took off his hat,

Took out the key and gave it a pat.

‘I saw the key was stuck in the door.

I didn’t want it falling on to the floor

So I picked it up so as not to lose it’

‘Oh silly old Sachmo. Monty needs to use it.’

He gave it to Monty so the wheel could be wound.

 ‘This is a great bus to get us around,’

The mice all hurried back inside.

Eager to start on their very first ride.

Monty put the key into the wheel

And turned and turned until he could feel

The clockwork was wound and ready to go.

He jumped in the drivers seat, put down his toe

And off went the mice on their very first ride,

Looking out the window with mousical pride.

‘Where shall we travel to first?’ asked Bongo.
‘I wonder if the bus will reach the Congo.’

‘Let’s go north,’ said Sachmo Squeak.

And the bus trundled on with a groan and a creak.