top of page
Light Of Inspiration

The flame of creation burns bright in our lives and enriches everything we do. What feeds that fire is different for all of us and that is what makes the works that we produce so fascinating in all its variety. For some artists there seems to be a compulsion to produce this work, in whatever field that they are working in, constantly seeking to stimulate, delight or intrigue the senses.


We need the beautiful feeling of being able to create art to feel alive. But also there may be a deeper purpose, where the work produced is a deeper exploration into finding answers to the questions we might have. I have come to realise that I have a restless spirit, always seeking those deeper answers. Although I have certainties over some things, I always seem to be searching for validation. The closest I have come to those answers is with my camera, and the insights that come with writing poetry. The light and atmosphere at certain times combine to give me what I need, while I am there, while I can feel a presence. Transferring that to an image is a constant quest.

Why do it? I certainly feel a compulsion. I feel that with some pieces of work I get close to what I want to achieve, and yet it is not close enough. So I keep trying, and I am drawn back to where I might find what I am seeking. Sometimes I find that connection, I am allowed to see. And it could be argued that I do not need the camera at all. But the joy and beauty is too wonderful not to share for those that might need it, and as a presence in a church told me one day, "Share what you see, share what I see."

Another World

Another World

Sometimes there is a way

That can appear before you

It's a question of whether

You then dare to take it

Are you ready

Is there longing enough to leave

Such rifts in time

Rarely appear on a whim

The otherworld

Has answered your song

One you have been loudly singing

It's offering you a chance to go

Such a gift may not come again

Oh my goodness your heart is breaking

How can I make this decision...

Right now?

DSCF1846 copy.jpg

It's so tempting, it's so wrenching

What will happen if I go?

Not to go is just as bad

I think it could send me slightly mad

Always living with the what 'if's'

Oh god, what have I missed?

If some day you cannot find me

It's alright, I've not gone blindly

I have gone where my heart has led me

Maybe I have always been there

I am only answering an old call

One where I would always follow and fall

But you will know where to find me

Forgive me, I had to go

I know this will not surprise you

For me, I have just gone home

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

Another Shore

Another Shore

My heart was always on another shore

A night of wild longing

And words like a grimoire

There was life and there was death

All let out in one final breath

My spirit chooses to remain here

And the elements seek to claim me

But I'll not yield to them just yet

Come and stand at the water's edge

Feel the rhymes ripple around in your head

The beauty of nature was my muse

And I'll find it hard to finally leave her

Which is why I still haunt this shore

From dusk until the bright dawn

Until I cannot linger any more

This poem is a homage to the poet

Percy Bysshe Shelley [1792-1822]

And for my Mother, who loved his works

DSCF5965.jpeg Noir.jpeg

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

DSCF6511 copy.jpeg

Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

For The Fallen

Ukraine 2022


How many more crosses

Are we going to place in the meadows

That cover our lands

We might not know your name

But you search for us

Try to find us

The longing remains the same

The crosses are a marker of time

Their shadows forming line after line

We have been here before

All these crosses

From shore to shore

When you walk through these meadows

Remember we keep adding

To the score

Yet again counted and sorted

Not known anymore

But still we lower you down in the meadow

Keepers of our memories

Guardians of our legacy

Each one supposed to be the last

Please remember

Please no more

Learn the futility of war



The last of the light

Appears at the end of the day

More precious for this

After the clouds and the rain

We pay homage to you

On this winter afternoon

As we have for all our years

probably forever

And we will keep honouring

Each day in the future

Just the same

The light is the source

Of our love


And true

We wait for you

Until the last ray

Has struck the earth

And you gather us up

To start again



Photography and Poetry

By Shelley Turner

Comment below on the poems if you would like to..
Rated 0 out of 5 stars.
No ratings yet

Add a rating
Share Your ThoughtsBe the first to write a comment.
bottom of page