©2003 by Susan Noyes Anderson, His Children, Vantage Point Press

Photograph ©2003 Anita Schiller

Too many sorrows I have known,
too many sadnesses unsaid.
A lake of woe surrounds my heart,
the last remains of tears unshed

 ©2003 Susan Noyes Anderson, His Children, Vantage Point Press

Photograph ©2003 Anita Schiller

Somewhere behind the angle of his face
resides the carefree child he used to be.
The soft curves yield to time, and in their place
emerge the strong lines of maturity.

©1992 Susan Noyes Anderson, Poetpourri

You love me, or you say so; that’s a crock.
If this is love, then love’s been oversold,
alone together in a bed gone cold
and all we do for heat is talk talk talk,

©1996 Susan Noyes Anderson

Our love is deep and constant as the sea,
yet fresh as mountain air in early spring
and free as meadowlarks who, taking wing,
come home to find their rest in nest and tree.

©1999 Susan Noyes Anderson (poem only)

If I had words to wrap around
those mommy days and mother years,
I’d hold them in my hands and say
that nothing ever disappears.

©1992 Susan Noyes Anderson (poem only)

Photo by Adarsh Kummur on Unsplash

Bare branches,
gnarled, athritic fingers,
reaching, groping,
which way out?

©1995 Susan Noyes Anderson (poem only)

The hummingbird outside my window flies
to drink of bougainvillea wine each day,
enticed by rich, magenta-colored prey
to claim the sweetest nectar as her prize.

©2003 Susan Noyes Anderson, His Children, Vantage Point Press

Our feet propel us swiftly through
this earthly promenade.
These words suspend the race: “Be still,
and know that I am God.”