poet Christopher Morley

Christopher Morley

Smells

WHY is it that the poet tells
So little of the sense of smell?
These are the odors I love well:

The smell of coffee freshly ground;
Or rich plum pudding, holly crowned;
Or onions fried and deeply browned.

The fragrance of a fumy pipe;
The smell of apples, newly ripe;
And printer's ink on leaden type.

Woods by moonlight in September
Breathe most sweet, and I remember
Many a smoky camp-fire ember.

Camphor, turpentine, and tea,
The balsam of a Christmas tree,
These are whiffs of gramarye. . .
A ship smells best of all to me!

Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 20, 2010

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Comments about Smells by Christopher Morley

  • Angela Slade (5/17/2019 3:39:00 PM)

    50 + years after first coming across this poem, it is still so evocative for me. I have shared it with several friends and they agree. Most had never heard it before

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  • prisha mehta (8/30/2018 11:07:00 AM)

    The poem is an understandable one but should have more exciting adjectives

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