Day Eighty Nine: 20th October 2012


Floating hazily, weightless
Watching real life
Unfold beneath,
Untroubled thoughts
Meaningless questions
Then suddenly
A forgotten breath
Escapes dry lips,
And I am trapped again,
Conscious of my human body.

Floating: Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty Eight: 19th October 2012


Standing upon a windswept precipice,
Kneeling and inching closer to the edge,
Peering unavoidably over the brim,
And wondering,
What it would be like,
To fall….

Precipice: Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty Seven: 18th October 2012


It was a long walk home,
On that dreary September night.
A mid solstice moon suspended,
Clinging to a clear crisp sky,
Seemingly a lone beacon,
Guiding my futile journey,
Through the moment you said NO…

Sky Beacon: Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty Six: 17th October 2012


Inspiration waning,
While at noon all is still,
And a quietness envelopes the world,
And thick clouds form a soft blanket,
Warming a voluptuous and fertile land.

But still a barren mind struggles,
And words remain elusive…

Voluptuous: Conte and Oil Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty Five: 16th October 2012


Where did you go
When the Yelling stopped
And the Door slammed
And the Dreams shattered
Crashing Falling to the ground
And will you be back
All White Knight- Like
Wiping away the Salty Tears
Of Bitterness and Hurt
Or is it too Damaged
Gone now Forever
Buried in the Trauma of Shame?

Damaged: Charcoal on Handmade paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty Three: 14th October 2012


Smells of the bush hover, silent in the air,
Earthy, sweet aromas waft, tickling my nostrils,
The dry leafy carpet crunches and crackles underfoot,
Hands brush against smooth silver bark, caressing,
Shimmering above, a silver canopy hangs,
Reflecting a softly dappled mulch carpet,
Breathing in nature, tastebuds tantalised,
Gumtree gems are collected to admire later.
Memories of a childhood long past,
And almost forgotten.

The Bush: Watercolour and Ink on Australian Paperbark

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty Two: 13th October 2012


A howling wind screams overhead,
Lashing trees and rattling windows,
Chilled raindrops splatter, pelting,
Exploding on the hard tin roof,
And thunder claps, vibrating the night sky,
The house shudders and groans,
Then resettles uncertainly.
I hear nothing,
Only the buzzing, vibrating,
To and fro, between my ears,
Drilling into my mind,
And numbing my senses.

Buzzing: Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012

Day Eighty One: 12th October 2012


Day 81,
An ongoing sojourn,
Into a world of words and mark making,
Confessing, Cleansing, Purging.
And after these 1944 hours,
Is my soul lighter, freer, unburdened?
Or am I just trowelling mortar on the walls,
Reinforcing my own battlefront,
Of dismal thoughts of entrapment,
And unrealised ideals?

A Lighter Soul: Soft Pastel on Handmade Paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2012