The green rolling hills, is just what I need.
Hitting the road, beautiful scenery on I feed.
Anguish that you are not here to share.
This beautiful country, the adventure, freedom blowing through your hair.
The gold sided cliffs of the blue mountains.
Three sisters stand staring at the valleys fountains.
My mind hovers above a fastly moving highway.
Warmth resonates to my bone, in the cloud speckled sky.
Miners eager to dig up our wholesome liverpool earth.
Results far more serious than its worth.
A crack in our food bowl and a nation goes hungry.
Short sightedness, on a highway making past and present generations angry.
For now I move freely through this beautiful nation of ours, with fun.
The day may come that it is not ours but theirs, the great Aussie land sale has begun.
© Deon Heemskerk 28-3-12
The hand brake is rusted on, his dreams just air and the sky.
It makes more sence, not to even try.
A deep rocky river gorge, slowly bubbling away.
unfortunate circumstances, make him feel this way.
Deep in the gorge mystery emotions lay asleep.
In stagnating pools, they will fester and keep.
Bought by the flood of external pressure, it now comes to rest inside.
Gargling sand and water, a fools hope in pride.
The end of the rocky gorge a waterfall so clear.
Roll over murky water, drop the sand particles and disappear.
© Deon Heemskerk 14-3-12