Topic: A Shakespearian sonnet I wrote about Lord Arthur and Lady Penelope
Anonymous A started this discussion 2 years ago#111,380
In merry halls where laughter fills the air,
Lord Arthur and fair Lady Penelope,
Engaged in mirth, a contest they declare,
To prove whose fart would echo gallantly.
With cheeks of crimson and with brows upraised,
They stood with pride, their gaseous prowess claimed,
Their hindquarters poised, no sound should be fazed,
In this most noble contest they're acclaimed.
The lords and ladies gathered all around,
Expectant smiles upon their joyful faces,
As guffaws filled the hall with roaring sound,
And echoed through the corridors and spaces.
Oh, what a sight, a spectacle so rare,
Lord Arthur and Lady Penelope, a farting pair!
Their bottoms trumpeted, loud and quite obscene,
In gusts and bursts, a chorus to astound,
The gallant knight, with muscles tight and lean,
Expelled a gust that shook the very ground.
But Lady Penelope, with grace and charm,
In silken gown and elegance untold,
Unleashed a wind, so thunderous and warm,
That even knights did shiver, oh, behold!
Their farts did battle, resonating loud,
Like trumpets in a great, symphonic feast,
A melodic blend of laughter and proud,
A masterpiece of flatulent release.
So here's to Arthur, Penelope fair,
Whose gaseous contest filled the merry air!
Anonymous C joined in and replied with this 2 years ago, 1 day later, 1 day after the original post[^][v]#1,237,925
Whan that sweete Junë had begunnë to sprede,
And flow'rs adornëd with coloures so red,
Lord Arthur and Lady Penelope,
Decidëd to hostë a grand feaste forsooth.
With much ado and greatë preparation,
They sent out invites to the noble nation,
To gather all their friends and kinë dear,
For a banquët full of mirth and good cheer.
The manor halls were adornëd with grace,
Rich tapestries and silks in every place,
Tables set with silver and gold so bright,
Candles flick'ring, casting a warm light.
The guests arrivëd in gowns and fine attire,
Their faces beamëd with joyful desire,
Ladies and lords, knights and gentlefolk,
Ready to feast and partake in the joke.
But what made this feastë truly renowned,
Were fartës that fillëd the air all round,
For the good lord and lady, oh glorious day,
Bared their bottoms and began to play.
From giant thunderclaps to tiny toots,
Both played arse with mastery, to charm the roots,
Of every heartë in that hallëd room,
Filling the air with pungent bloom.
Soft airy winds carried slightly sweet,
The scent of cabbage and rotting meat,
While resonant bottoms, grand and bold,
Sent forth their blasts, mighty and untold.
Lord Arthur himself, with regal command,
Played his arse, a golden instrument grand,
Lady Penelope, with her queynte so fyne,
Let forth gentle wind, ah melodies divine.
Their flatus enchantëd the noble crowd,
Feastërs swayëd, their voices loud,
A harmony of laughter and pure delight,
Echoëd through the manor all the night.
And so the banquët was a triumph of sound,
As Lord Arthur and Lady Penelope found,
Arse trumpets, horns, tubas, and flutes,
Had brought joy and mirth to the noble recruits.
In olden time, this tale would resound,
In lyrical verse, sweet and profound,
A celebration of friendship and fart,
With music that tugged at each listener's heart.
Anonymous A (OP) double-posted this 2 years ago, 22 hours later, 2 days after the original post[^][v]#1,238,073
In days of yore, in Arthur's grand court,
Where knights and ladies held their sport,
A tale I bring, both strange and queer,
Of Arthur, noble and his lady dear.
Lord Arthur, bold and mighty knight,
With shining armor, gleaming bright,
His prowess known both far and wide,
A champion true, with gallant stride.
And Lady Penelope, fair and fine,
With grace and beauty, her virtues shine,
Her laughter soft, her eyes so bright,
A gentle dame, a beauteous sight.
One merry eve, in Arthur's great hall,
Amidst the feasting, one and all,
A contest strange began to unfold,
Of sounds so wild, of tales untold.
Lord Arthur, with pride and might,
Declared his skill, with all his might,
"I challenge thee, my lady dear,
To a contest bold, of gas sincere!"
The courtiers gasped, their eyes aglow,
As Penelope's cheeks began to show,
A glint of mischief, a playful mirth,
She accepted the challenge, proving her worth.
The tables cleared, the court did cheer,
As Lord Arthur and Lady Penelope drew near,
They stood apart, in noble stance,
Prepared to engage in this odd romance.
With a gust of wind, the contest did start,
As they let loose, with fervent art,
The courtiers watched, their breaths held tight,
In awe and laughter, through the night.
Lord Arthur's thunderous blasts did ring,
Echoing through the hall, with a mighty fling,
Yet Lady Penelope, with grace divine,
Unleashed a melody, so sweetly fine.
Her delicate toots, like a gentle breeze,
Caressed the air with perfect ease,
Each note a harmony, sung with pride,
As laughter erupted, far and wide.
The courtiers marveled, their jaws dropped low,
As Penelope's prowess began to show,
For with each passing round, her triumph soared,
Her victory, resolute and adored.
And so it came, in Arthur's grand hall,
Lady Penelope reigned over all,
Her winsome laughter, her glorious sound,
With a farting contest, she was forever crowned.
Thus ends the tale of Arthur and Penelope,
A contest odd, but true, you see,
Where farts and laughter intertwined,
A whimsical tale, forever enshrined.
Anonymous A (OP) triple-posted this 2 years ago, 2 minutes later, 2 days after the original post[^][v]#1,238,074
Hwænne se móna full bringeþ monþa þeow,
And Arturus wéþan hléor geweþeþ féond,
Ic ána gecwæð þæs háliges lár,
Burgena híwan, of cynge and wíf,
Be fýrtunge, and wífhád eác.
Arður wæs hláford, hrémig and mihtig,
Helmum gehnæged, eallum cuð and riht,
Hæleða lof, áhlýfde wid,
Se gúðræsa gód, galgena blæd.
Penelope, cwén, cynings gecorene,
Léoflicu in fæger, fúse on andwirde,
Hyre hleahtor, swylce sunnan leóma,
Wæs gelufod, sceadu on heofonum.
On ánre tide, on Arður his sele,
Betweox gamen and blissfulre fæle,
Cwæð se fruma, byrne to cwic,
Fýrtungálocen, twám tillicum.
Þa báron hwelm, on ðære sele beorht,
Þá Penelope, beorht and sealdhéawht,
Hire gewinlunga hide fæst gehóf,
And blyþe and gleóful geæþmælede.
"Mihtig Arður, ðú sóþlice plegast,
Ac ic þé þurhleófost, in fýrtunge,"
Hire mægþplega, swylce fugol sóng,
Mid gehleódre sange, hringde wide.
Þá wundredon folc, hwæt Penelope dyde,
Þá fægerne réaf, þurh hire reáde cwyde,
Mid elmihtigre strengþe and blisse,
Oft síðode, on ðære fýrtunge fyrste.
Lord Arður's brogan, swylce hremig swég,
On ðære sele eallum gehýrdestwég,
Ac Penelope, mid fægere fýrtunge,
Geslógon melodie, swæsre ond gódlic.