The Sound Collector – by Roger McGough

 

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 bathtub

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