Checkerboard of light,
warm and cool through the tree.
The sun’s footsteps,
grass forming two shades of green.
Little worlds formed in the folding bark,
for the ant and spider.
Highways formed from tree to tree,
for the little working commuter.
Little balls of yellow fuzz descend on the trees flower.
Pollen drunken hum,
on top of the cream tipped tower.
The warm sweet afternoon,
drifts slowly out into the air.
Gaze fixed tree ward,
without a worry,
without a care.
© Deon Heemskerk
Standing on the rocks so tough,
surrounded by the green marshmallow tuft.
Sits our home in a sweet peach draft.
In our hearts this land leaves its mark.
Not for our wallets or financial gain.
We come to this magic place to escape the strain.
To incorporate with our surrounds and each other.
Some like their barking neighbors,
but i find the birds much nicer.
Trickles of time spent in the garden of this afternoon.
Not wanting to put down this bliss any time soon.
© Deon Heemskerk 29-1-2013
I shook hands with this liquid,
not my tears.
Sitting quietly like a rabbit,
absorbing the world through my ears.
People here speak in mountain tongue,
slow but chattery.
Like the splash of the river,
how the McDonald runs.
Strength in the granite stone,
unyielding and refusing to wear.
Pound into soil,
but still will not tear.
Valley moving into an afternoon haze.
Clouds kiss the mountains,
and this valley caresses the range.
© Deon Heemskerk 18-1-2013
The icing sugar-coated red sky,
spreads like a blanket above you and I.
The afternoon orange,
Juicy to see.
The spectacle brings the warm energy,
to you and me.
The clouds form figures and castles,
surrounded by a blue lake.
Love so tenderly given,
guilty feelings sometimes when I take.
Out in the west the day begins to slow.
But not in my heart,
were the warmth continues to grow.
© Deon Heemskerk 8-1-2013
The man with the white blanket chases me down this early corridor.
His fingers cover my eyes,
only can i focus on the floor.
This ant track fixes my direction,
nose tasting the fresh breeze.
Mystical twisted tree revealed for a second,
just in view for a tease.
Its arms pointed skyward,
as if reaching and pulling the energy down from above.
Long he has seen the passing of the ants and gives them the breath of his love.
© Deon Heemskerk 29-12-2012
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
Dreams float in clouds and on the rivers that we live by.
They pass along beams of light and up into the sky.
When the clouds get heavy, they float down like snow.
Into little open hands waiting for them on the ground.
Just a little seed of thought, creative in its nature.
Pure little piece of energy, possibilities endless, anytime adventure.
© Deon Heemskerk 5-12-2012