David Pekrul

Heather's Feathers



Posted: Thursday, November 20, 2008

by

So here's the background to this strange little poem, or collection of poems. I was in a silly mood and wrote the first limerick. A couple days later I wrote the second limerick. I submitted them to a poetry website I belonged to and one reader responded by writing a limerick which, in their version, continued the story. So I wrote the third poem listed here. Then someone else wrote an addition to the story, so I responded with another limerick and so on and so on. What is written below are all the limericks and poems I wrote to complete my version of the story of Heather's Feathers. (I have not included the limericks written by the different readers.)

The line with the asterisk refers to a limerick written by one of my readers. According to her version of the story, Heather was a burlesque dancer and due to financial difficulties had to sell two feathers to pay the rent.

One of my readers finally brought the whole story to a conclusion by having Heather get married and change her ways.

Please read this narration in the spirit in which it is intended, which is to entertain and hopefully bring a laugh or at least a smile.

I

There was a young lassie named Heather,
Who played on the beach in hot weather,
She thought it a sin,
Just dressed in her skin,
So covered herself with three feathers.

II

Remember the beach-babe named Heather?
Who covered herself in three feathers?
The boys were aware,
And started to stare,
So now she wears tight shiny leather.


The following is not a limerick, but it continues the story of Heather's Feathers

III

Twas a fine use of leather,
On our girl named Heather,
For the boys had to be on a tether.
But leather made Heather
Break out in hot weather,
So now she is back to the feathers.

Now, back to the limericks

IV

Our sweet northern princess named Heather,
Is hooked on a new kind of feather,
It is not from a moose,
Its Canadian Goose,
So cozy in all kinds of weather.

V

Our Canadian Heather's a Newfy,
Which to most of us sounds kind of goofy,
But to those from the Rock,
Shes the belle of the docks,
With her feathers all ruffled and poofy.

VI

Our Heather has moved to the prairies,
She's tired of travelling on ferries,
She's now wearing loafers
And chasing poor gophers,
Which makes her all sweaty and weary.

And now for the conclusion to our story

VII

Oh, Heather, dear Heather,
What became of your feather,
The last one you had left to dance in,
For the two had been sold,*
As the story was told,
And the last one was held up for ransom.

Some bikers in leather,
Kidnapped our dear heather,
And wanted ten grand to return her,
Let there be no mistake,
She's a lovely cheesecake,
But I haven't the money to earn her.

So I made up a plan,
Twas a bit of a scam,
When I told them I'd pay for my Heather,
So it must have been fate,
When I broke down their gate,
Took my Heather and left them the feather.

Now I have my dear Heather,
Who is plucked of her feather,
And I haven't the money to buy one,
But she says it's okay,
Says she likes it this way,
For the boys in town call her The Nude One.

*That's another story for another time.

If this article is used in any publication, please send a copy of the publication to David Pekrul at
E-Mail:dpekrul@gmail.com
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