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?