©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson (poem only)

image by Vika Strawerrica on Unsplash

How do you like to go up in a swing?
Pump your legs or be pushed?
Take it slow or take wing?

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

I love you like the ocean’s roar.
In fact, I love you even more.
Yes, every stupifying snore.

I love the wind between your lips.
Your exhale doesn’t sigh; it rips.
(The breeze it blows could sink warships.)

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Caralsil on Deviant Art

The woman stood, endured, grew strong.
Propelled by faith, she trudged along
the snowy trail, the dusty plain,
the rocky passes, slick with rain.

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Barth Bailey on Upsplash

Our history is glorious.
Why should we not stand proud?
And yet, today, so many feel
that pride is not allowed.

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Rehan Syed on Unsplash

They came: the tired, the poor, the yearning masses,
the flood of people reaching for one moon––
sharing a dream that lived and died in snatches,
mercurial as air in a balloon––

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

Image: Venus de Milo with Drawers by Salvador Dali

Greet the one all creation adores,
crowned the goad-ess of weddings and wars.
She is immortallized
as a feast for men’s eyes,
but she’ll not let them get in her drawers!

 ©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

image by Rosalie Barley on Unsplash

Whenever I’m in search of feed,
a deviled egg is all I need.
This worries me, because I fear
it’s angeled eggs I should revere.

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

Image: Not to be Reproduced by René Magritte

Closed book am I,
cover-only showing;
all bound and stitched
up tight against
the knowing.