Time Table

Time Table copyright

Photographic Art Pieces and Images.
©2014 Elisabeth Connelley & Purple Shoe Photography
To Inquire, email:elisa58t2sugarless@yahoo.com

Inspired by Alainafae and her Timetables.

This one has music that goes with the image, Mumford and Sons I Gave You All.

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

Good Morning! It’s One Shoot Sunday again! The following is quoted to attribute the photographer and the site that supports and encourages The Poetry Challenge of One Shoot Sunday.

“Hello one and all – welcome to the latest edition of One Shoot Sunday. Normally, you would hear me (Chris Galford) wax philosophic here or provide you with an introduction to our latest photographic find. Today, however, we’re simply going to be providing you with a prompt from an old friend of One Stop’s.

You may remember Roger Allen Baut @ChasingTao from the early days of OneShoot (Roger’s One Shoot Interview). If not, you should definitely take a look now. A talented and friendly photographer, he makes his return to One Stop today with something a little more abstract. Look beneath the surface. What speaks to you here? Let your imagination go for this one.”

Accept Today’s Poetry Challenge!

Winter–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

Winter
that season
stark
cold hard
stripped bare
happy, hope
springs
remembered fondly
woven
created
great vines and twists of leaves
glory
sun soaked, and seduced until
the mind floats off into the sound
the wind making love with leaves
fruits hanging heavy
falling
the golden lushness
the red flames
consume the view
the lust
harvest of summer dreams
greedily
stripped bare
now, harsh wind
a leaf hangs
here or there
steadfast
stubborn clinging
to believe
winter is not bare
winter is not naked
winter is not what is

–elisabeth connelley

The Peach–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

Last Week

I found your orchard
and walked upon green grasses
and leaves danced
the eyes of the child
and shy peaches
perched upon the limbs
and lilting rays
pushed slashing down
and momentary glimpses
her perfection—luminescent
quickly hidden
snatched away
the dancing of those leaves

I plucked the peach so carefully
and cupped her in my hands
–her firmness, yet fragility
echoed with the dance

I touched my lips to silken flesh
to taste what lay beneath
Her flesh,
gave way my tongue
her juices,
tang and sweet

My hunger grew
desires fulfilled—swaying with the dance,
The sky
it circled round about,
falling down upon the grass

My thoughts are whispering with those leaves
they dance to you and say—
I plucked this peach for you my love,
enjoy it whilst you may.

–by 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

Winter–Purple Profundity: Poetry by Elisabeth Connelley

Winter
that season
stark
cold hard
stripped bare
happy, hope
springs
remembered fondly
woven
created
great vines and twists of leaves
glory
sun soaked, and seduced until
the mind floats off into the sound
the wind making love with leaves
fruits hanging heavy
falling
the golden lushness
the red flames
consume the view
the lust
harvest of summer dreams
greedily
stripped bare
now, harsh wind
a leaf hangs
here or there
steadfast
stubborn clinging
to believe
winter is not bare
winter is not naked
winter is not what is

–elisabeth  connelley