Day Two Hundred and Forty Nine: 29th March 2013

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

hanging softly
fluttering now
lightly floating
resting silently

Digital Drawing

Day Two Hundred and Forty Eight: 28th March 2013

Posted on March 28, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

have you
ever
had the cold
seep
into your toes
and pulsate
up
vibrating
through your torso
buzzing
?

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty Seven: 27th March 2013

Posted on March 27, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

water rising
gently enveloping
calmly cooling
forever gone

Pastel on handmade Paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty Six: 26th March 2013

Posted on March 26, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

when you arrived
hopeful eyes gathered
looking and watching
waiting for dreams
to be fulfilled
finally…

or a mundane reminder

Digital Drawing

Day Two Hundred and Forty Five: 25th March 2013

Posted on March 26, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

a crow’s stark caw
beckoned the gray day
and billowing clouds
gathered silently
veiling the empty sky
breeze-less and expectant
the air paused
waiting

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty Four: 24th March 2013

Posted on March 25, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

low heavy clouds rumble overhead
a curtain of dreariness descends
staring blankly through the mist
my eyes struggle to see
no thoughts brew and percolate
such a gray day today

Pastel on Handmade paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty Three: 23rd March 2013

Posted on March 24, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

Glistening dewdrops
Gracefully hanging
Green reflections
Gone in a splash

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty Two: 22nd March 2013

Posted on March 23, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

balancing precariously
on the precipice
of an unbalanced mind

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty One: 21st March 2013

Posted on March 22, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

it had a smooth berry taste
slidding down my throat
velvety
“nice legs” you said
and I agreed

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Day Two Hundred and Forty: 20th March 2013

Posted on March 21, 2013 by Dawn Whitehand

a tumultuous wind howls outside
seemingly angry at the world
cracking sturdy tree branches
and scattering gumnuts
-casino like-
across the tin roof

drafts weaving through cracked weatherboards
swirling around the darkened bedroom
swaying the orange paper light shade
and quietly escaping under the door