Remember Me
Sometimes when I am visiting a church and its churchyard, or somewhere within the landscape, or to be entirely honest, anywhere, I can be aware of a presence around me. These can be modern environments, but often I find, if I am aware of any contact it is usually, but not exclusively, related to the past. Whatever time frame it falls into it can be very powerful in its intensity. It seems to make no difference to the emotions felt.
Just because something happened many years ago does not mean those feelings have faded. Depending on what it is, it may have even got stronger. Sometimes this feels like a replay on a loop, like a trapped video. Other times it is more personal, when the contact is more direct.
When this happens it can be very emotional and desperately sad, but also there are times when it can be delightful, funny and very poignant. There are times when it can be difficult and also uncomfortable. Discretion is needed.
My overriding impression is that often it is enough that I have listened. Each soul has a story. We all do. Some of these stories my camera has paid homage to. Some of these stories are here in poetry and images, so they are not forgotten, so I can share them with you.
These Hills
These Hills
These hills comfort me
I imagine you walking towards me
Through the church gate
As ever, rarely late
How we loved this beautiful view
Shared by the ancients
And maybe an angel or two
For us, that was a joy that grew
These hills were in our blood
And the chalk was like our bones
Souls drifting in the meadow grass
Memories like shadows fleeting past
You know that I am always here
Not far from the path
Or from where we used to sit
Laughter and love in our hearts
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
Choices
Choices
The choices we make remain etched on our life
Navigating through fate
Sometimes we dance with alchemy
Choosing the ninth gate
Others choose more wisely
Learning perhaps, to hesitate
But sometimes we just cannot wait
Like the White Rabbit, ‘I shall be too late!’
Constant juxtaposition
Retreat or escape
Or a happy medium
Which might just turn into tedium
Our choices make up our chapters
Rushing towards the epilogue
Of the greatest story ever told
Everything turning into gold
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
Congregation
Congregation
We light a candle, we place flowers
We think of them, we say a prayer
We do this in memory of our dead
Through joy and pain, grief and love
Each soul who has lived on this earth
Creates a weaving pattern
That connects us all together
United by the same mortal end
Its the one thing we all share
The snapping of the silver thread
So we light a candle, we place flowers
We honour all the days of the dead
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
Cross in The Meadow
Cross in The Meadow
Here you are again beloved
Making your way through the meadow
I am here waiting for you amid the flowers
The daisies like falling snow on a spring day
I know you still dream of me
When the blood ran like wine
Over the unforgiving stones
Quickly, back, back into the land
Why do you come here still my love
Haunting this meadow in your own lifetime?
Does your own restless soul
Never leave you alone?
I sought mine with a simple cross
Never expecting it to last this long
But still I remain, remembered
Like another, on a hill, far away
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
The Last Caretaker
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
The Last Caretaker
I keep moving
And I keep searching
As I am the last one here
It is my task
To haunt this ground
And make sure
Everything is still sound
When everything shifts
This universe exists
In this stillness
A creeping hush
It is a half world
Looking the same
But simply not
On the edge of night
Lit by a glimmering light
Not seen by many
So you might wish
You had never come
So whatever you do
Or else you will stay
Please heed this advice
And don't ever mention
your name...
Memories
Memories
It's the same in every churchyard you said
These memories of endless love
Etched out in unforgiving stone
But I would rather you told me now
Rather than when I am cold and dead
I thought we would be together
I didn't think I would be here alone
The stones are more for the living
A promise never to forget
A love to go on
I expect you think me ridiculous
Tidying up the flowers and the edges
As if you were still in bed
But I miss you my darling
So I have to be here instead
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
1913
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
1913
Before time takes me away
Could you please remember me
I died before the Great War
Amid terrible uncertainty
The lichen will erase my life soon
As if I had never been
But you stand there wondering
If you are going to see the same thing
I sense you reaching for me
As someone who faces such turmoil
How can this be happening again
Was it the same for me
My advice to you would be to live
Love and care for those around you
But try to do what you wish
Find something that fulfils you
Treat it as if it were a gift
Just living is remarkably special
Do not waste a moment on hesitation
And always try to remember
The wise words of the dead
An Enchanted Evening
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
An Enchanted Evening
You know where to find me my love
The place I first fell in love with you
On an enchanted evening
When you were all I knew
We looked across this treasured land
That late warm summer evening
And then you gallantly took my hand
And more or less promised me the moon
I find myself coming back here
As half of me has gone
I am not complete without you dear
The days are just too long
But you tasked me with a promise
To look after what we loved
Soil to till and seeds to sow
Stay my love and watch it grow
So I come here and think of you
Trying to sense you near
I talk to you and tell you things
Hoping you can still hear
I Can't Believe You Left
Photography and Poetry
By Shelley Turner
I Can't Believe You left
So many times I have come back here
Because this was where we were last
We stood looking at each other
And I wondered even then
If the time for a chance for love had past
I couldn't hold you at this bridge
I was frightened to even touch
We stayed a little distance apart
As if life was intent on mocking us
And it might make it even worse
Your call-up papers came between us
The war was deciding our fate
You had to go the next day
We waited too long for no reason
And now there was every reason to stay
It's been a year now with no news
Missing in action they tell me
I am in limbo what am I to do
Except wait by the bridge over the river
And hope that I see you one day soon