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Heathers Feathers (The Australian Chronicles)
Is it no more to be said?
That the tale of Heathers bed.
Where a story did untether.
Something big from a small feather.
Heathers feathers have been bled.
Nearly fabled was her story,
Heathers feathers full of glory
And so Heather was exalted,
Though her cat it was assaulted.
Heather felt about that poorly.
So then feathers they were taken.
Back inside where they were shaken,
In her pillow once again.
Though they leaked just now and then.
So one landed in the bacon.
From the bacon she did take,
a single feather and did make,
a toy so she could tickle.
What to do though, she was fickle.
So on her bed she did flake.
Then all at once, she was awoken.
From a tickle not a token.
Heather woke up dressed in Leather.
With a tickle from her feather,
Not a word of this be spoken.
Outside it was good weather.
So outside did go our Heather.
As she stood under the willow.
Heather cuddled to her pillow.
And a Hammock she did tether.
Heather lay under her tree.
In her hammock feeling free.
As she lay there dressed in leather.
Many thoughts they came to Heather.
Of feathers, what may be?
So our Heather she did dream.
About feathers and some cream.
But her dream involved her cat,
And no good could come of that.
So she woke up with a scream.
So the hammock and its tether.
They undid, and Oh poor Heather.
And her pillow it did split.
Heather had a sneezing fit.
As she snorted up a feather.
So Heather and her feathers,
went inside, removed her leathers.
Then she jumped into a bath,
Decided feathers weren’t her path
No more Feathers be for Heather.
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