Sunday, August 8, 2010

The Artist - Guest Post by Cheryl Oertli


The photo above taken by me at the Botanical Gardens. The poem below was written as a tribute to me by a dear friend and fan of my work. Thank you so much, Chey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Artist

Images of God's creation captured forever,
Frozen in time by the photographer's hand;
Nothing specific, whatever tickles her fancy,
Spontaneous creations, crafted not planned.

Commonplace objects like auto headlights,
With talent and creativity now seen as new,
A tilt of the lens, a magnification;
They all come alive because of this poets view.

Images taken at The Botanical Gardens,
Photographs of buildings and people far away;
Exotic images, tourist treasures captured,
Her own personal reflection of a grand holiday.

She speaks to others in words and photos,
An artist with a unique point of view;
Freely sharing her gifts with other,
The gift of an artist, honest and true.

Cheryl Oertli
(c) 2010

9 comments:

Angela said...

The poem is a wonderful tribute to you, and so true! Your photographs are so unique and beautiful.

Ann said...

What a beautiful poem and wonderful gift that your friend gave you.

SquirrelQueen said...

A beautiful poem, you have a very special friend in Cheryl.

Love the little squirrel, that is a fun shot.

Poetic Shutterbug said...

Angela, thank you so much :)

Ann, Thanks my friend.

Squirrel, Thanks, I chose a squirrel because we both love them :)

ruthi said...

Wow... this is indeed a wonderful tribute to an accomplished artist like you. she is indeed a fan and she knows her idol too well. congratulations.

Kass said...

What a nice tribute.

Icy BC said...

A beautiful tribute poem to you, Jo! Just wonderful..

Your squirrel picture is adorable.

Rosie @ Centre of Interest said...

Joanne that is such a beautiful poem by Cheryl to be written about you.

RNSANE said...

Cheryl describes you very well, Jo, and it is such an honor that she does so. You impact people that way, though, so it comes as no surprise. Now, if you were liver and onions, I might write a poem for you.