Talk:The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle

Just Sit Right Back and You'll Hear a Tale, A Tale of gw-Alchemic g-Wedding, That Started from this Tragic Port, Aboard King Author's Bedding.

The Mate was a Fighty Moon at Knight, The sKypper A Dying King, Who Married them A Crone who Wained, but Newness made Her Bright!

( )

The inQuestior Started Getting Tough, The Kingly Slip was Tossed, If not for The Courage of the Fearless Groom, The Men(strat)ion wood be Lost!

Kang Author crashed his ship upon a deserted forest Home, With Gingalain, King Fisher too, The Mill of Air, and his Wife, a Moving Star, the Professer and Mary Land, here on Gawain-agains Ile!

Now this was the tale of Our Last Days! "I'll be Back another Time!" Says Ra, The Sun, a falling Thang: Go-waining on an uphill climb.

The First Mating and a Skipper or two, will dew the berries best. To make the others Cum for Table, on a Tragic Eye-Land Test.

No Home, No Light, No Motor Car, Not a Single Lux-Usury. Like Robbing Sun and Cursed (O), As Primate-ive as Man Bee.

So Join the Beams if it gets week, in the Groomer's Air to the Throne -- Sun's Home de Jour.

You're be sure to get a smile, when Convergent Waves Create a Light, Here on Gilligan's Isle!

Hint: What women desire moistly is to Re-Sire (sire the Sun God): It is Re-Dick-You-Lust, quite Ridiculous.

The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. The moon decides whether to be seen in day or night. Crone, Maiden, Mother, and Saturn Time was the "spell".

But if this reeks of B.S. to you, you're under the Sun Worshiper's magic smell! — Preceding unsigned comment added by 2600:1700:7960:4EE0:F50B:4CA2:61B:ECD (talk) 12:49, 15 June 2019 (UTC)