More Insomnia

Posted on June 26, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

sleep is evasive (3.53 am)
the long dark shadows of night
a security blanket (3.54 am)
enveloping my thoughts
cleansing my mind (3.55 am)
stealing my sanity
eroding my self (3.56 am)

Pastel on Handmade Paper

The Darkness

Posted on June 20, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

unrestrained
it grows
a dark tangled clot
interwoven
tree-like
en-masse
multiplying
a malignant tumour
rotting my mind
devouring my soul

Digital Drawing

The Day You Went Away

Posted on June 12, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

the day you went away was bleak

a howling wind announced you departure
torrential rain washing away your footsteps
silence reverberated from cold walls

and still does

as does haziness
hang
a gray halo encircling emptiness

where once a heartbeat sang to the rhythm of life
now only silence bemoans the hollow wail of death

Endings or Beginnings

Posted on June 2, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

death stares
your cold eyes
icy hard
drill through my head
penetrating my core
a laser beam
red hot
crippling my thoughts
paralysing my limbs

to not care
my only salvation

so I don’t

and I am free

Conte Crayon on Handmade Paper

Horizontal Mosaic

Posted on May 20, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

sedimentary lines ripple gently
undulating
converging layers
caressing
settling
gathering in the creases of my mind

Conte Crayon on Handmade Paper

Sunset at the Olgas

Posted on May 6, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

smudgy water colour
pastel hues
jagged horizon
haphazardly strewn
perfectly captured
a vibrant backdrop
focusing red rocks
whispering in silence
empty you head
listen…

Uluru

Posted on April 20, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

buzzing buzzing
tiny black flies sticky
red dusty sweat viscous honey
a rolling ball of heat suspended
fiercely in a bare blue canopy
unsympathetic
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

Out Back

Posted on April 17, 2015 by Dawn Whitehand

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