[grasshopper]

Thanks so much for all your comments on this poem. I've written some sonnets as a sort of exercise, but in this one, I was trying hard to describe something that actually happened to me--or two experiences--so I have more invested in it.

I was concerned that, as I often do, I'd tried to stuff too much information into this sonnet. I can sometimes hear my sonnets creaking at the seams.

I was in Boots (the chemists) and I opened a jar of face-pack made with Dead Sea mud. The smell hit me, and evoked such a vivid memory of something I hadn't thought about for years.

Mark and Rose picked up on the fact that the sonnet concerns the powerful way a smell can stir our memories.

Several people have commented on the poem's technical faults--which I wouldn't dispute for a moment--and though, of course, I'd like to write a flawless sonnet (some hopes!), it really means a great deal to me that some people seemed to find an emotional connection with the sonnet. That's what I hope to do when I write, to communicate in some way.

I appreciate all of your comments, but I'll just respond specifically to a few, for fear of boring you any more than necessary.

Simon,
What would you do with the couplet?
Quincy,
I agree about the title. I'd changed it to incorporate more information about the contents of the jar, and it seems very clumsy. Yes, it needs another title.
Susan,
It's funny you should mention 'Jane Eyre' because I remarked to someone that the place was rather like Lowood House. It was stuck in the 19th century, rather than the 20th.
Mike,
Thanks for those very useful fixes re the enjambments. They look good to me.
Kate,
I thought there was a volta, but only a weedy one. In the octave, I'm right in the memory--in the sestet, I'm stepping back a bit into the present, commentating on the past. Yes, the more I think about it, the more weedy the turn seems. Could I call it a half-turn?

Regards, Maz