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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
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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November 14, 2018 at 1:43 AM
this is the first of your poems I have read and I appreciate it. it reminds me of a poet I read when I was manic last year. everything else you've written looks especially academic, and contrasts in such an odd way. from vermont to paris with kind regards, ortus
Wignesan Avatar
November 14, 2018 at 3:51 AM
From Paris to Vermont with "love" if you're woman and with "kind regards" if you're not. I can't help being "academic" for I don't write to say "nothing" very much. Most of my working life has been rather academically intertwined with labour. Great to hear from you, but at my age I scarcely find time to go visiting...Profound excuses.
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