In the stillness of the summer afternoon.
Cool bubbling river plays a refreshing tune.
In this cool body we lay.
Low, like animals hiding from their prey.
Out on the plane , birds hang armpits wide.
Their sails catching no breeze, heat rising in a shimmering tide.
Shade the highest commodity, in the dust pounded field.
Only the cruel burning sun it is set to yield.
The sheoks on the river, have the last laugh at the gums on the plane.
This country is screaming out, for some sweet summer rain.
© Deon Heemskerk 21-12-12
Through the granite gates and onto the range.
Frosty foggy mornings, so beautiful and strange.
River runs to kookaburra laughter.
Free from the strain of the mining plunder.
Willow dips its finger tips into the cool flow.
The white body forest waits for the eastern glow.
The land where the sun meets the crystals in the sky.
No clearer site, tear forms as a cool breeze hits the eye.
Beautiful fresh air, sunlight highlights the Sheoak’s hair.
Birds play in the morning sun, like your not even there.
More days like these please, a world growing rarity.
© Deon Heemskerk 29-6-2012
Sunset eagle circles the mountain tip.
First winter breeze stings my lip.
Cold stars rise from the western pink glow.
This is the start of the winter, mountain topper’s know.
The afternoon birds, eat the last of the day’s food.
The Macdonald sets a flowing contentive mood.
The granite boulders huddle in the last of the suns rays.
The changing of the season guard, is evident today.
The moons stainless edge, cuts into the darkness.
Reflecting off the river and into the emptiness.
slight cool shiver hits the top of my spine.
Warm house fire thoughts, seemingly divine.
© Deon Heemskerk 17-5-2012