Ithuna’s Orchard - Fighter Poem - villanelle

Ithuna’s Orchard

(a villanelle)

Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun
That bathes each laden bough a golden hue;
She reaches up to pluck the fairest one

To dangle ‘fore her squealing princeling son.
As leafy branches shade the merry two,
Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun.

The Royal sire then joins the family fun
And winking, takes a juicy bite or two.
She reaches up to pluck another one

In playful pique as Drogo swings their wun-
derkind atop a sturdy bough and true.
Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun.

The Royal pair beams proudly at their scion;
Bjorn the wobbly laughs without a clue.
Ithuna’s apples twinkle in the sun;
She reaches up to pluck her fairest one.

— Mistress Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler

... is 15th century wool merchant’s wife who thinks she’s a 10th century Viking weaver.