The Song Of The Committed Bus Nerd Poem by Mary Champion

I know that Maggie Thatcher hated buses,
said only losers rode them after thirty,
but I don't understand what all the fuss is,
so what if they are rackety and dirty?

With traffic at a stand-still, they're no slower
than any other transport that's got wheels on.
Only Shank's pony will go faster,
unless the walker's got stiletto heels on.

If you sit on the top deck you can look in
all the upstairs windows and be nosy.
What is that weird concoction they are cooking?
That one looks a dump, but this one's cosy.

You listen to one sided conversations -
a lover's tiff? or some work-place disaster?
It's obvious that woman's losing patience,
and why the sudden burst of manic laughter?

Buses don't suit ev'ryone. I'm guessing -
that toddler clearly hates the aggravation.
To be honest, it would have been a blessing
If his mum had caught the train on this occasion

But even so, I love red double deckers -
all life is here, it's hardly ever boring.
In fact two of my workday's sweetest pleasures
are the bus rides that I take each night and morning.

My Oyster Card is my passport to freedom,
it takes me anywhere there's buses running.
Trains and boats and planes - I do not need ‘em,
it's buses that I have the greatest fun in.