Suffering from low self esteem, the critical words of her parents still loud in her head, she sought the attention of others with all her might. She fervently believed that if she tried hard enough, she would be accepted and liked; she would prove her parents wrong.

So accustomed to put-downs, she soaked up any form of flattery with great relish, believing it to be genuine admiration. Most of all, she enjoyed the company of young men who were nothing like her father. A petite, pretty blonde, she found herself the centre of attention at the clubs.

Imagine her shock when her illusion was shattered; over and over again.

She didn't know what love was anymore, and replaced it with sex, drugs and alcohol. Down and down the spiral she went, until she found this was widely expected of her and she was too frightened to say no.

Her lack of respect for herself was contagious, it seemed, as the men drawn to her were now abusing her. This wasn't enough to stop her cycle, she just tried even harder to please, until she had nothing left.

One day, she was sitting in quiet reflection, gazing out at the sea, when inspiration struck her. She realised she'd been doing it all backwards! Looking outside herself for validation clearly didn't work. It dawned upon her that only when she cared about herself, could she expect someone to care about her.

I woke up with a start, feeling frightened. Swallowing hard, I realised my tongue felt thick and my mouth was dry. Slowly I opened my eyes properly, blinking in disbelief as I took in my surroundings. I sat up suddenly, regretting it immediately as my head began to pound. It looked like I was in a luxurious hotel room. I’d never been in a place like this before, it was way above what I could ever afford! What the hell was going on?

Glancing at my wrist, I saw my watch was missing, and in its place dangled a gold bracelet. Confused, my heart beating loud and fast, I searched the room with my eyes. Ah, a clock radio. Squinting at it, I see it is 11:05am. Okay, but where am I? Which hotel is this? My mind was now racing. Last night, last night....... blank. Hang on, where’s my handbag? That would maybe have a clue in it. I got up and looked around everywhere, but did not find it. Then I saw a folder on the top of the fridge. Desperation filled me as I reached for the folder, my hands shaking. “El Dorado Maroma” Quintana Roo, Mexico.

The folder fell from my hands as a yelp escaped me. Mexico? How did I get here, and when? I tried to remember again, but got nothing. All I knew was that I was from Australia. My head was aching and I felt a wave of nausea as panic enveloped me. Sweat broke out all over me and I felt faint. Steadying myself against the bench, I made my way to the nearest chair and collasped into it, tears streaming down my face.

A knocking on the door made me jump clean out of my chair, but then I stood frozen in place. The knocking came again, much firmer this time.

“Miss Wendy, I come in now!” said a deep masculine voice in broken English.

The door clicked then opened, and I fell back down into my chair as a tall, well built and very well dressed man entered. He had an air of great authority, and I sensed there was no arguing with this man. He moved with grace and ease as he came to stand before me.

“I trust you sleep very good last night, si?”

“I, er, um....” I was tongue-tied.

“Miss Wendy, you now have shower,” he ordered, producing a leather travel bag. “Here, some clothes you wear, you find towel in there, and your handbag too” he continued gruffly.

Wide eyed, I took the bag from him, and met his gaze.

“Who are you? Why am I here?” I managed.

“Go have shower now, we talk in car” he said, turning away to take out his phone.

Showered, dressed and make up on, I couldn’t help but admire my reflection. Such a beautiful dress, which fitted me perfectly, and the shoes! How did he..... I sighed, pulled my shouders back and lifted my chin. I would not let Mr Intimidation take my dignity, I would not show him how scared I was. Bracing myself for whatever, I inhaled and stepped out of the bathroom. The room was empty, it seemed. No, that can’t be right, I thought. Fear was rising in me now, as I imagined him hiding somewhere there with a gun. Then I noticed a sheet of paper on the table, held down by a rock of Amethyst. Next to it was a box of Panadol. I crept over gingerly, as if any wrong movement of mine may set off a bomb, carefully picked up the Amethyst and then the page.

“Miss Wendy, I had to go, do important thing. Do not worry, I be back in half hour. Mr Denez.”

I wondered how long he had been gone for, as I took about half an hour getting ready myself. Gratefully, I took 4 Panadol, gulped them down with as much water as I could take. Again, I wandered the large room, inspecting every inch, hoping to find a clue. Nothing.

The telephone rang. I looked at it like it was foreign object for a moment, then lifted the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hello, is this Wendy Sharman?” came crisp professional female voice.

“Uh, y-yes, I am Wendy”

“Mr Denez has been delayed and I will be coming to get you and take you to meet him. My name is Lietta.” Click. I stared at the phone receiver still in my hand, then put it down. What was going on? I was starting to feel so dazed with shock and confusion, there was no room left for fear.

3 minutes later (yes, I watched the clock) there was a rap at the door, followed by a click, then in strode another man. He was dressed entirely in black and he stared at me with cold eyes.

“W-where is Lietta?” I bravely asked. He didn’t answer, he just took a giant stride to me and wrapped my hands around behind my back, switching to a one hand hold while the free hand clamped down on my mouth, suffocating my scream. I kicked at his shins with my heels and struggled hard, then I heard a crash! Then a shot rang out and my attacker dropped to the floor, blood seeping from his head.

“Wendy! Are you alright?” the woman who saved me ran to me and put her arms around me. “Don’t worry, you are safe now.” She spoke beautiful Australian English.

“Lietta?” I noticed she had what looked like a police badge on her hip, and radio on the other side. Three heavily armed and padded officers then burst into the room. They checked the dead man’s pulse, then radioed the information in as they trailed back out the door.

“Yes, I’m Detective Seargent Lietta Rayez. I’m here to get you safely back to your home in Australia” she purred. “We will just wait here until forensics arrive”.

“What happened? Who are these men? Where did Mr Denez go?”

“You’ve been missing for four days, and we were able to track you down thanks to CCTV cameras at the club you were in when Denez got to you. Then we pinged his phone and followed him over here. He drugged you at the club, and from intelligence we now have, he kept you sedated until last night.”

I was struggling to take this in. Four days!

“The drugs he has been giving you are designed to give you amnesia. He was going to give you a new identity and sell you to the highest bidder. You were meeting that bidder tonight. A drug lord we’ve been after for a decade, now we’ve got him!”

I still did not know what to say, I was just gaping at her like an idiot. My head was just starting to clear, but I couldn’t recall going to any club.

“You are lucky that he took you off the drugs last night. Your memories will return, it just might take a few weeks to all come back.”

As Lietta and I got into the lift, she looked me deep in the eyes and said,

“You don’t remember at all, do you?”

“No, it’s all blank. All I can remember is that I’m Australian!” I replied, frustrated.

“Babe, your full name and title is Chief Inspector Wendy Anne Sharman,” Lietta gently said, “and I am honoured to have been in service to you, and to have saved your life”. Then she smiled warmly, and I remembered her.

Dust pervades hair and eyes

Whirlwinds of dust fly

Paddocks once green dry

Tears in our eyes

Overbearing heat neverending

Temperature never bending

Aircon over extending

When is this ending?

Snakes basking in sun

Be ready to run

Don't come undone

Leave them alone

Black and violet sky

Clouds passing by

Rain coming don't lie

Thunder in the sky

Celebrating first rain

An inch is now gained

4 inches second rain

Will it happen again?

9 days of rain now

Kangaroos shelter now

They growl at us now

They want to attack us now

Beware the furry roo

It is known to kill you

Savage, nasty too

They're in the outdoor loo

They're in the shed

It's doing in our heads

Under the house they bed

Some are even dead

Flooded plains and cut off roads

Croaking of the cane toads

Nature heard our woeful odes

Answered those odes

Peaks of green now seen

Paddocks turning green

A miracle has been seen

Unbelieveable it seems

A thirsty old land in drought

Had been all worn out

Now green shoots spring out

With joy I want to shout!

#monsoon #rain #drought break #poety

He came to me one night

Standing over my bed

Blocking out all light

Invading my head

Come to me, he said

His voice like silk

You know me, he said

You drink my milk

Staring hard at him

I cannot speak

Dreadful and grim

Feeling so weak

You called on me, he said

When? I cried

You wished you were dead

You even tried

Other times there were

Flirting with me

Dangerous you were

Tempting me

But now I live! I yelled

I’m happy now

Too late! he yelled

You’re mine now

His evil eyes glowed

Yellow and cold

I swallowed

He took hold

Come with me, he said

You’ll feel no pain

Ha ha, don’t dread

You’re not even sane

With all my might

I called to the angels

Help me win this fight

Hear me dear angels!

Devil be gone!

I’m not yet done!

Get away from me!

I am free!

A flash of light

Shattered the night

The Devil fell down

He lost his crown

Death is not the Devil, the Angel said

The Devil is not Death

Death is a transition

Not a prison

Illusions of the Devil

Fill you with fear, she said

Fear not the Devil

Let go of fear

Go to the light, the Angel said

Take that hand, she said

Follow the light

To your homeland

My beloved Earthly pets

My beloved Earthly people

My Angelic Family clan

With open arms, welcomed me Home

Every new day, at the break of dawn, I feel the fresh newness of the day.  I ponder upon my creative arts, and a concept occurs to me. What can be done to a piece of canvas?  What can happen to it?

You have a piece of canvas in your hand, bringing it inside from the car.  Its pristine whiteness reflects the sun, as you trudge along in the mud. Your dog is excited to see you come home, and he runs to you at full gallop, jumping up on you and wagging his tail.  His claws catch the fabric, and before you can do anything about it, he has trodden it into the soggy ground while he dances at your feet. What do you do?

You could give up on it, assuming it’s also torn from his claws, get real mad at the poor dog so he goes away with his tail between his legs.  You’ve already had a bad day, so you stomp inside in a black mood. So much for mounting that on your easel for a new painting!

Or you could pick it up, and check it.  Look, there are no rips or tears, miraculously.  It’s just wet and dirty. Never the pessimist, you take it inside and rinse it out.  It is only mud on there and it comes out easily. Now you lay it out nice and flat so it can dry.

You could also pick it up, see it is dirty and wet but not torn, take it inside and leave it on the sink to dry.  The phone rings, it’s your chatty friend, and half an hour later you have forgotten all about the canvas on the sink.  Later that day, you go to the kitchen to prepare for tea, and notice it. With a jolt, you remember leaving it there. You pick it up.  It is stiff and crumpled, and the mud is now set like concrete. You know the type of mud around here is renowned for being stubborn, and wonder if you can rescue the canvas at all.

The canvas laid out flat to dry is nice and smooth, and ready to use.

The canvas that was given up on is now in pieces scattered around the yard. The dog had fun with it.

The canvas that was stiff and crumpled went through the wash, and came out clean.

The first canvas is set up perfectly on the easel.

The second canvas is shattered and broken and will not amount to anything. But it brought the dog joy.

The third canvas is being ironed as it is still crumpled.

The first canvas is lovingly treated with layers of paint in different colours. Some dark shades, some soft pastels, some bright colours. It becomes a beautiful picture to behold despite the darkness in it.

The third canvas is now set up on the easel, and needs to be stretched to fit.

The first canvas is carefully placed in an elegant frame, and taken to the gallery for display.  People are inspired by it’s complexity and rare beauty.

The third canvas is now being painted in a random fashion.

The first canvas sells for a golden price and is very happy on it’s new wall.

The third canvas is now an interesting abstract image, and is taken to the gallery also.

When the third canvas is sold, it joins other paintings like itself and happily feels at home.

Life is just like a canvas.  We are given a blank canvas, and we bring it life, or we tread on it, neglect it, take it for granted, let others paint on it, abuse it til it’s threadbare and torn, or set it on fire.

Like each step in a painting, so is life.  The pencil outline is the plans we have, steps we have thought of to take us where we want to go.  Then each and every stroke and brush mark each moment. Sometimes we make a mistake, so we correct it, or alter it so that it still fits in with the bigger picture. Sometimes we dwell on the mistakes, and the dark patches, so much so that we no longer can see the full picture. Sometimes we worry about the mistakes and darkness for a while, but do move on, only to find that as the picture grows, the errors and shadows morph into beautiful aspects of the image. They provide contrast, which creates a more interesting image. Contrasting experiences make our lives interesting, and serve us by showing us what we prefer.

The three canvases represent the outcomes of three different perspectives.  I came close to the second canvas, but luckily, I'm the third canvas!

This sunburnt land

Has seen better days

The Big Wet would come

Every single summer

Flooding golden plains

Roads were cut

We'd be flooded in

Preparation began

When Spring began

Fully stocked pantries

Power lines come down

Generators go into gear

Just enough power

If we get it right

Cool air conditioning

In longer floods

Stocks running low

Meds running out

No need to panic

Helicopter is coming

Now the Wet is gone

Long hot summer

Decadent electric storms

Without the rain

Paddocks are dying

We get a sprinkle

5ml in the gauge

A few precious moments

Feeling the joy of rain

Splinter of hope

Everyone talking weather

Talking and hoping

The telling signs of rain

Are just myths

Sad realisations dawning

Mother cows fade

Into a skeletal frame

Calves drinking them dry

Still they drink

Mothers are weakening

Cows begin to die

Paddocks are bare

Dust fills the air

I cannot breathe

My heart is breaking

Orphaned calves

Fending for themselves

Desperately hungry

Are trampled and broken

Fighting for food

We put out lick

We put out cottonseed

Costs are rising and rising

Where is the line?

Seeking balance

There is no balance

Cruel, long drought

Oh Mother Nature

Forgive us our sins

Save us please

My heart is aching

But loving this land

I gather my strength

I won't give up

We are needed

Lorikeets are eating my bread and honey

Suddenly in one split moment I see

The chain of interconnections

I provided it

The bread and honey came from the supermakert

The supermarket bought the bread from bakers

The bakers bought the ingredients for the bread

The ingredients came from farms

The farmers sowed the seeds for what became the bread

The bread which now feeds the birds

The supermarket bought the honey from beekeepers

The bees made the honey

The beekeepers made it possible

For me to buy honey

The honey which now feeds the birds

This split moment defines the new road I travel

Everything is connected

Synchronity abounds

11:11 on the clock

555, 333, 444

Numbers aligning

Winks from the Universe

Saying I am not alone

Saying I am on my way

Blissful connection to spirit

Contentment in my newfound awareness

Excitingly wanting to share it all

People feel the energy

Deeper into this I travel

And my life begins to unravel

It becomes a lonely road

With bumps and twists and turns

For what no longer serves me

Now has to make way for the new

Karmic relationships shatter

I feel so alone

Crystals bring me comfort

I seek out energy healers

Get my chakras realigned

Go to meditations

Go to psychic fairs

Seeking validation

Seeking truth

Seeking further direction

In the dark night of the soul

My guides have gone and left me

A hollow emptiness in my heart

Drains me of all my passion

I don't know which way to turn

There is no light to follow

Illusions of my life

Come tumbling down around me

During long solitary darkness

I turn to deep within

At first I'm met with silence

Then I feel a whisper

Slowly the darkness fades away

Soft shades of pink and grey

A new voice is given

A new guide and companion

Shades of blue and green

My heart is feeling again

Clarity returns to my mind

Energy returns to my life

But passion still wanes

What do I want to do?

Who am I now?

Where to from here?

Shades of indigo and violet

I am that I am

I exist

Allowing is the key

Allowing grace

Allowing my divinity

Allowing the and

Allowing abundance

Forgiveness of myself

Compassion for me in the past

Living in the now

Wisdom is forming

Transmuting and distilling

Metatmorphis

Like the butterfly I emerge

Yesterday's mirrors glare and accuse

Black char and blood tears

Fetid air, dead trees

Crows feast upon the dying

Frightened eyes torn from skulls

Broken taps dripping rust

Inner rooms smell of must

Bathed in fear, coated in guilt

Heavy, ugly, putrid

Breaking glass exploding

Festering walls imploding

Shattering mirrors now

Shards, dirt, blood, tears

Entrapment breaking clumsily

Hurting, aching, crying

Shuffling, hesitating, doubting

Baby steps

Falling down, getting up

Ginger hope

Tender caution

I’m a survivor

I’m a fighter

I’ve fought for my life

Fought for my freedom

Fought for my rights

I’m a survivor

They hate me for it

They hunt me down

They shadow me

Try to fighten me

But I’m a survivor

They can’t get to me

I long to be free

No more hiding

Let me be

I’m a survivor

I have battle scars

But they have become

Part of my beauty

I’ve been strong

I’m a survivor

I don’t trust anymore

Earn my trust

Is a must

Can you do it?

I’m a survivor

I guard my heart

It was shattered

I hold it together

Inside its walls

I’m a survivor

But not just a survivor

Against all odds

I healed and thrived

I’m a thriving survivor

If you feel lost, confused, and sad

Depressed, anxious, feeling bad

When you hit rock bottom and can't see

Any way out, you've got me

If your heart's been broken, shattered and abused

And you are sick of being abused

When hope you cannot see

You have hope in me

When the depths of sorrow are pitch black

You can't find your way back

When the walls close in on you

I am here to help you

Addictions you crave, to soften the blow

To give you a buzz, the only way you know

You are no longer neat

And you never even eat

You feel like you cannot breathe

You've forgotten how to breathe

Forgotten about life

There is no life

Fear not these things, I've been there my friend

All of it, and nearly met my end

I write to bring you a glimmer of hope

When you no longer can see any hope

I was in the depths of depression

Rape caused that depression

I found it hard to cope with my job

So then I lost my job

No job, no more money coming in

My budget became very thin

Soon I failed to pay the rent

And away my home went

Nowhere to turn, noone to run to

My family had disowned me too

Homeless, desolute, no self esteem

I had to sell my body it seemed

I sold my body, I needed drugs

I kept going with alcohol and drugs

Abusive boyfriend tried to choke me

I ran to the brothel to shelter me

Now it's three years later and I am free

No more depression, or fear you see

I sought help and received it

I cherished it and I nurtured it

I came off the drugs and backed off the drinking

Alarmed at how deep I was sinking

I'll never forget the people who helped me

They saw an inner light in me

Now that light can shine and glow

I am here, I am well, and I show

That you can turn your life around

Put your feet back firmly on the ground

For life is worth living after all

I want to live and have a ball

I want this all for you as well

You can do it, and do it well

My Christmas wish to you out there

Is to know that someone cares

To know you deserve to be

Living, loving, and free