The Ballad of Doctor Clocktopus; the Most Cantankerous and Leggy Miser Beneath the Waves.

Grumpy Doctor Clocktopus had tentacles galore,
One for every season, and then another four.
He lived amongst the seaweed, deep beneath the shore,
Coral for his kitchen, with starfish on the walls.

He wore a pair of spectacles
Because his eyes were poor,
And slippers for his tentacles,
To stop him sticking to the floor.
Atop his furrowed brow, a self-appointed crown,
To rule over the ocean, anointed with a frown.

When the waves above were bumpy,
He chose to stay below,
On his own and grumpy,
Arms knotted in a bow.

The little fish would ask him,
To come and sing a song,
But he thought such antics silly,
So he never went along.

The crabs were snappy dressers,
And wore their shells with pride,
But when they came a-knocking,
He always stayed inside.

He didn't like the lobsters,
He thought them to be rude.
He found the shellfish selfish,
As they didn't share their food.

He didn't care for whales,
and the noises that they made,
And he tired of the dolphins,
And all the games they played.

In fact, he only liked the stingray,
Who lived around the bay,
Because he kept his mouth shut,
And stayed out of the way.

Over time, the fish had cottoned on,
And were running out of patience.
News of his scorn was talked about,
By gossiping crustaceans.

Even the hermit crabs were fun,
And enjoyed a game of rounders,
The sharks were keen and seldom mean,
Even to the flounders.

One day upon an evening tide,
He came out for a swim,
He looked about, but to his dismay,
There was no-one there but him.

In solitude he still remains,
Shunning company,
A lonely, long-legged layabout,
With a medical degree.