One Shoot Sunday and The Door–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

“One Stop Poetry Challenge – the Photography of Fee Easton

Today we welcome back no stranger to One Shoot Sunday. UK photographer Fee Easton was featured back in March. Her interview with Chris G. and picture prompt challenge for that day proved very inspiring to many of us.

Since talking to her via Twitter, she has offered her work to our community to allow poets a greater choice for poetic creation, thus presenting a challenge from which participants may choose from five of her amazing photographs.”

One Stop, Challenge Time!

Option 4

Option 4 One Shoot Sunday May 15, 2011--by Fee Easton

The Door

Rusted metal

Arrested function

Pistons heat frozen

Viscosity
Erected long ago
Sluggish
Remembrance

Fleck
Fire
Flame
Into form
Blazoned
Hot breath
Shimmering through
Old creases

Drop
Moist
The old man’s eye
Trained, placed against that old tree

Settle back
Creaky chair by the porch
Gazing

At the door

–elisabeth connelley

One Shoot Sunday and On The Way–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

A bit ago, I found something in the blog on Writing Without Paper. An event, activity, called One Shoot Sunday.  Anyone interested can read the full and requested directions there. Part was to credit the Photographer:

This week’s One Shoot takes us to the Isles with English Photographer Fee Easton. Though a self-described “amateur photographer,” Fee’s work is far from amateur. One need look no further than the cathedral pictures below to see some of the intricacy at work. Just take a moment and note if you will the engaging interlace of the shadows on the floor.

Now please, join Fee as she takes the time to guide us through her photographic journey…

~Chris Galford

Accept the Picture Prompt Challenge!  (please click on the image below to see it in the size and proportion in which the artist intended)

Image by Fee Easton and Granted Use for Picture Prompt Challenge

On The Way

soft moving hands
slide along
the grace
of me
clay
sliding along
the wheel
is it my fingers that create
or the turning of the wheel that uses them
expression cries out in the light of the dark
union found
remembered

–by Elisabeth Connelley, Purple Profundity