The blood vessels in my eyes bleed.
On the highway to your heart they feed.
Silicon in these stones, wash the skin from my hands.
Water shifts the particles of sand.
Gravity pulls the flow of the river.
Memory of that dawn sinks deeper.
All the birds seem to flying in the same direction.
Infected by the love of the sun, in this frozen section.
Todays mist dances with yesterdays dust.
Even the fox in your eyes, i trust.
© Deon Heemskerk 2013
like sugar on the tasty earth.
The sun or the kookaburra,
which one rose first?
Dancing river sound,
drifts slowly into the morning.
Little blue ren and his groupies,
are hitting the yard and touring.
Moon is hiding his face in shame,
all the things seen during the night.
Casanova growling possum,
his behavior hardly tame.
The sun has risen,
putting the nocturnals to bed.
Get up golden radiating face,
the plants need to be fed.
© Deon Heemskerk
My mind rose from the guilt edged fog of the valley.
Spirits blocking the truths that lay waiting.
Homeward bound truths of life and death.
My own self responsibilities , some how to be met.
does my feet as they lay down this track.
Sweet intoxicating birds song, reminds me of the sobering fact.
Fall he did,
leaves floating down in the summer breeze.
pulling the water serpent downstream.
Isolated flowers floating on the surface.
Smile dipped memories, that reconstruct his face.
© Deon Heemskerk 24-1-2013
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
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
The warmer weather brough a black snake to our back door and it also made me curious to see how our favorite spot on the river was going..
Clear flowing water runs effortlessly over the large granite stone.
Rocks form shapes that resemble prehistoric bone.
The water has no constant shape, morphing, splitting apart and joining again.
On it chugs through the country side like a reliable old train.
A slight breeze hums through the sheoaks over head.
Zigzag patterned sand, shows were the red-belly has fled.
Insects bounce off the surface, trout eating like kings.
The gem of the new england, the nucleus to all living things.
Deon Heemskerk 19-9-11