The Rescue by Amy Cadler

The Rescue by Amy Cadler
The Rescue



This is the poem about the dog I'd told you in class



The wind is loud,
The wind is blowing,
The waves are big,
The waves are growing.
What’s that? What’s that?
A dog is crying,
It’s in the sea,
A dog is crying.
His or hers
Or yours or mine?
A dog is crying,
A dog is crying.

Is no one there?
A boat is going,
The waves are big,
A man is rowing,
The waves are big
The waves are growing.
Where’s the dog?
It isn’t crying.
His or hers
Or yours or mine?
Is it dying?
Is it dying?

The wind is loud,
The wind is blowing,
The waves are big,
The waves are glowing.
Where’s the boat?
It’s upside down.
And where’s the dog,
And must it drown?
His or hers
Or yours or mine?
O, must it drown?
O, must it drown?

Where’s the man?
He’s on the sand,
So tired and wet
He cannot stand.
And where’s the dog?
It’s in his hand,
He lies it down
Upon the sand.
His or hers
Or yours or mine?
The dog is mine!
The dog is mine!

So tired and wet
And still it lies.
I stroke its head,
It opens its eyes,
It wags its tail,
So tired and wet.
I call its name,
For it’s my pet,
Not his or hers
Or yours, but mine-
And up it gets,
And up it gets!



Amy Cadler

Another poem for you to enjoy...

The Monster Hunt

There was nothing to do

And it was cold and dark,

So we went to hunt for monsters

In the trees by the park

It was absolutely silent

You couldn’t hear a sound

And everybody jumped

When a leaf hit the ground

Then we heard a noise behind us

“Look, What’s that behind that tree?”

Well, if it was a monster,

We didn’t wait to see

“Did anybody see it?”

“No, I don’t think so”

“Did anybody hear it?”

“I really don’t know”

“I heard footsteps”

“I hear a dog bark”

“I heard a glass break”

But it was very dark

So no one saw the monster

But we all heard a sound

And we’re absolutely certain

That it was around

One boy saw a shadow

“May be it was a tree”

Another said,

“It smelt like a monster to me”

Then everyone was quiet

And a little boy said

“There was a great big monster

And it touched me on the head”

And everybody laughed and laughed

The little boy laughed too

“But I did see a monster

It’s absolutely true”

And after that day

Whenever it is dark

No one ever goes

Near the trees by the park

Paramore: Brick By Boring Brick [OFFICIAL VIDEO]

Watch this video and try to relate the images, the lyrics and the poem about Lulu

A weekend in Lanus

Let's go to Lanus with 2nd 2nd economy.

Jeans on - last but not least

Enjoy another presentation made by 2nd 1st economy

These are two related poems written by Roger McGough. Enjoy them... And if you dare... you can "hear" the first poem and "see" the second one...

The sound collector

A stranger called this morning
Dressed all in black and grey
Put every sound into a bag
And carried it away

The whistling of the kettle
The turning of the lock
The purring of the kitten
The ticking of the clock

The popping of the toaster
The crunching of the flakes
When you spread the marmalade
The scraping noise it makes

The hissing of the frying pan
The ticking of the grill
The bubbling of the bath tub
As it starts to fill

The drumming of the raindrops
On the window pane
When you do the washing up
The gurgle of the drain

The crying of the baby
The squeaking of the chair
The swishing of the curtain
The creaking of the stair

A stranger called this morning
He didn’t leave his name
Left us only silence
Life will never be the same

Click here to watch a video in which the author, Roger McGough performs his poem

Roger McGough was born in Liverpool in 1937. He began his poetic career with fellow Liverpool poets Adrian Henry and Bryan Patten in the 1960’s best selling modern poetry collection The Mersey Sound. He then joined hit band The Scaffold producing songs like, ‘Lily the Pink’ and ‘Thank U Very Much.’

He lives in Twickenham. He has two children and a cat called Tricky.

Roger McGough has written a new poem that derives from the ‘Sound Collector.’

The Colour Collector

A stranger called this morning
Dressed all in black and grey
Put every colour into a bag
And carried them away

The goldenness of cornflakes
The ivory of milk
The silverness of soupspoons
The see – throughness of silk

The greenness of tennis – courts
When play has begun
The orangeness of oranges
Glowing in the sun

The blueness of a dolphin
Nosing through the sea
The redness of a robin
Breasting in the tree

The creaminess of polar bears
Sliding on the floes
The little piggy pinkness
Of tiny, tickly toes

The sky that smiled a rainbow
Now wears a leaden frown
Who’s sobbing in his caravan?
Wizzo the monochrome clown

A stranger called this morning
He didn’t leave his name
We live now in the shadows
Life will never be the same.

Can you imagine any other collector?