NaPoWriMo – Day Twelve

tapping the table
anticipation shrivels
as the minutes tick relentlessly

pacing the floor
expectation growing
as the hours drag mercilessly

idly standing by
realisations dwindling
as the years mount vengefully
replaced with an empty nothingness

the end

© Dawn Whitehand 2017


buzzing buzzing
tiny black flies sticky
red dusty sweat viscous honey
a rolling ball of heat suspended
fiercely in a bare blue canopy
blazing heat radiating from a rock
so old so large so red
whispering stories of ancient times

stand still be silent and listen
let the earth tell you the story

Uluru - fine liner and oil pastel on handmade paper

Uluru – fine liner and oil pastel on handmade paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2015

Out Back

dry red sand fills the landscape
tiny scattered nocturnal tracks
the only signs of life
barely visible
through hazy heat ripples
a solitary breeze
disturbs the sparse foliage
stirring fine crimson dust
the final breathe
of a forgotten country

© Dawn Whitehand 2015

Pastel on Handmade Paper

Pastel on Handmade Paper

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