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