In Competition No. 3189 you were invited to submit a poem about a favourite smell.
This challenge certainly seemed to strike a chord — not surprising, perhaps, given the looming threat of Covid-induced anosmia. As Brian Murdoch puts it:
Be ever grateful for your sense of smell!Treat no aroma with the least disdain,In case some virus makes you so unwellThat you can never smell a thing again…
Other star turns, in an entry that was a delight to judge, were Adrian Fry (‘Most of all, I crave the pong/ of a layabed, copperhead girl gone wrong…’), Chris Ramsey’s Wordsworthian tribute to the smell of frying bacon and Paul Brown’s clever twist on Herrick. Commendations also go to David Silverman, Nick MacKinnon and Sarah Drury.
The winners take £25 each.
The smooth, sharp tang of lime or lemon zest;The autumn gush of cider apples pressed;The lilac that intoxicates the bees;The brisk broth of a briny seaside breeze;Mown hay’s clean, sweet surrender to clear skies;Gorse flowers’ playful coconut surprise;A raindrop’s splashy duet with dry earth;A grapevine’s juicy air of purple mirth;Fried masterpieces sizzling with a wealthOf greasy, joyous disregard for health;A yeasty fresh-brewed beer or fresh-baked bread;A newborn’s drowsy, delicate, lush head;The sun’s perfume you wear when you come inFrom gardening, the season on your skin —For all these, coffee richly wakes my sensesTo how immense each scent with its portents is.
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