The river sheoaks talked of the western breeze,
but it remained calm and still were i stood.
Sheltered by the shoulders of granite stone and hairy apple gums.
I looked out,
as though looking out the window on a cold morning.
Happy and content in my little bliss bubble.
Not wanting to ever leave,
an invisible barrier set by the wind at the end of our garden.
Shimmering leaves of a poplar,
dazzling like the tail of a peacock.
The warmth of spring rides in on the wave of the afternoon sun.
It prickles my hair as i catch pockets through the filtering gums.
The grass is cooling under foot,
the night now imminent.
Just a soul willing to float with nature,
the frequency of the season and the love of the energy in it.
© Deon Heemskerk 26-10-2012
On a blue sky, special spring day.
The guests let the river float all their troubles away.
Smiles were given freely, love like the warmth of the sun.
A new chapter for this couple had just begun.
Guests filled the couple with kind words.
Beautiful food filled everyone’s bellies, all ate like lords.
A dream like day, the energy in this special place still remains.
The guests that made that happen, memories that are here to stay.
Picture(Thankyou Bec!) http://www.wantedimagery.com.au/
Early morning trickle of sunshine on a spring day.
It bends through the trees , glows in the fogs haze.
The energy kisses the cold skin.
Only in the shade does the icing sugar begin.
Cheeky in its lateness, surprising a few unaware plants.
Magpie soaks up the rays, soccer ball round in his stance.
He rambles of the days beginnings.
Not caring if we are listening.
Many of us are too busy staring straight, to get a sideways glance.
Bring the bolt cutters and together we will cut the fence.
The paddock of freedom is always in plain sight.
© Deon Heemskerk 11-9-2012
The valley gets tickled with rain.
Here the earth shows no wounds or pain.
Dreams nest in the trees.
Spring song formed by passing birds and bees.
Leave your greed at the gate, no need for that poison here.
My mind remains clear, when not pointed with that spear.
Unfortunately there is a time when some immerse themselves with corruption.
You my friend have become more machine, than a real person.
I hold compassion for you but it will not satisfy your need.
Nor does the company I keep hold the conversation on which you feed.
The regeneration will not take place, while the fire still burns.
People you surround yourself with, effect how your soul will turn.
Purge or be purged, hang on to what is real.
Make some choices with your morals your hiding, not on how your wallet feels.
© Deon Heemskerk 23-9-2012
Italian wine touched my lips, freed up my feelings of you.
Your soul of white silk, flowing in a gentle breeze.
Singing sweet canary, stuck in my cage.
Held back by luckless dreams and fears.
Your heart the tide washing in over mine.
Beating to a rhythm of kindness.
I’m a pirate stealing your love, more than I deserve.
Many courses of bricks lower, than the wall you deserve to walk on.
Just recently I have been unlucky in a lot of areas but one.
Sweet spring rainbow, that on my eyes has now been bestowed.
© Deon Heemskerk 18-9-2012
Sweet spring shower falls on the dry flour earth.
Cool droplets of relief, for wind whipped trees.
Washing away dust particles of a terrible day.
The violent storm building, that punched its way through the hills.
Scared animals took cover from the snapping and groaning.
The relentless waves of air, the building friction in the sky.
The deafening warning shouts, that came from above.
No sooner had it hit, it had dispersed into a serene rhythm.
A steady calm shower,
© Deon Heemskerk 14-9-2012
Sniff of Spring
Small cotton balls form clusters,
they hang like chandeliers
waiting to burst full of colour.
Tips of fine green hair
just above the surface,
Signs the ground is about to rupture.
Pockets of sweet impregnated air,
waits for warmer air to surf on.
Honey bees ready for the busy shift,
humming for the punch drunk pollen
they work on.
the newborn chirp,
the seasons theme song,
same but different every year.
The plum flower so early,
chance of destruction by a late frozen tear.
Chocolate cake soil,
waits for the oven to be turned on.
Then it will give rise and grow.
The arrival of the best time of year.
Accumulation of enthusiasm,
growing with the natural flow.
© Deon Heemskerk 30-8-2012