Villanelle: the Smell of Woman the Whiff of Chaste Nutmeg Cinnamon
Villanelle : The Smell of Woman the Whiff of Chaste Nutmeg Cinnamon
The smell of woman the whiff of chaste nutmeg cinnamon
The lone mythic bird gone to sing in other dulcet climes
She bathes in cloistered mountain streams tingling pearls diamond
Her lips velvet unbuzzed petals dewy beds chrysanthemum
Deep lost hidden chasms the taste of feminine rhymes
The smell of woman the whiff of chaste nutmeg cinnamon
Her looks demure proud eyes shy shades distant firmament
Meadow cheeks where swath of lily and lilac swaying chimes
She bathes in cloistered mountain streams tingling pearls diamond
Her crown of caressing curls churning deep musk-scented ocean
Virgin forests semi-quaver ragas titillate mimes
The smell of woman the whiff of chaste nutmeg cinnamon
Her tapering fingers arching rainbows fun gifts from sun
The mother's milk embrace that never curdles trust with crimes
She bathes in cloistered mountain streams tingling pearls diamond
No wind breeds from sewers nor loose limbs to quell chaste woman
Nor nasty tongues lash the holy citadel in grimes
The smell of woman the whiff of chaste nutmeg cinnamon
She bathes in cloistered mountain streams tingling pearls diamond
© T. Wignesan - Paris, November 14, 2018
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