Saturday, August 27, 2016

Burdens to Blessings


Burdens to Blessings
©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

When life rears up and strikes me down,
when all the world turns bleak,
I look to God for hope and find
the comfort that I seek.

He may not snatch me from the jaws
of troubles I must bear,
yet He walks with me faithfully.
I feel His presence there.

Sometimes I choose to turn away
when suffering is great.
I rail against His timing, spurn
His help that comes "too late."

My heart does not remember then
what I remember now;
that if I would be as He is,
my life must teach me how.

For strength flows from the spirit
that has exercised its might.
Each violent storm I conquer
brings me closer to His light.

My Father has a plan for me,
a plan I once endorsed.
Each soul must find its way to Him;
no spirit shall be forced.

May I accept with grace all things
that bring me to my knees––
in joy or sorrow, grateful 
for my opportunities.

The world is one small moment
pulled from vast eternity.
Father, I would be mindful 
of thy priceless gifts to me:

Life lessons that I need to learn,
a family filled with love,
a Savior who will lead me home
to dwell with Him above.


for more "blessings" poems click below

Thursday, August 18, 2016

The Stranger


The Stranger
© Susan Noyes Anderson
I remember the cat in better days, strutting
smugly through the soft, gold carpet, master
of his own paw-printed hallways, a silky legacy
on each duvet. I was an observer then, amused,
detached. The house would soon be mine, the cat
a memory; belonging as he did to doting
owners
––who loved, it seemed, as only those
whose animals become their children can.
It was a pretty lie; the cat stayed on,
left to the streets and framed in unlit windows.
The shadows own him now, protect him too;
coat him in dark disguises only soap and light
and
––oh yes––love could shed. He stalks his past,
slow-moving, locked in dreams; unwilling, still,
to call the night his home. Restless, relentless,
searching for his people. He stares into our eyes;
we do not know him. We do not take him in.
Assignment: Write a poem on the theme of  "cats."
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Keeping a Lid on It


Keeping a Lid on It
©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

Emptied my feelings in a jar
and shook them all around.
They bounced, bled, bubbled purple red
but never made a sound.

Who knew? The ruckus from my head
is now safely contained!
My lid (not flipped), securely closed.
My angst? Bottled (not brained).

Assignment: Write a 44-word quadrille including the word "jar"

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Saturday, August 13, 2016

rusty


rusty
©2016 susan noyes anderson

i cannot write
it's all gone wrong
my words elude me
like a song
 that i've sung 
many times before
and yet recall 
the tune no more

could be i'm rusty
like a spout
and need to flush
the rubble out
so please forgive me
while i free
my brain of
crappy poetry

if you can stand to
read the stuff
(admittedly, it
might be rough)
be sure, my friend
to let me know
when cool, clear poems
resume their flow

assignment: open link night

for more dVerse poems, click below

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Blue Elephant



©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

What is this creature on my chest?
Blue elephant has come to nest.
My lungs are smashed; my heart is crushed.
My whole, wide world in blue is brushed.

Not robin's egg or ocean blue,
more like a mess of midnight goo.
And I'm surrounded by the stuff.
Blue bites! Big-time. Enough's enough!!

It's hard to breathe, harder to talk.
I locomote by belly-walk.
Yo, Dumbo. Get off, dude. You stink.
(Henceforth, my pachyderms lean pink...)

Assignment: Write a blue poem.

 for more blue poems, click below

Friday, July 29, 2016

No Go with the Flow


©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

Sometimes I curl my toes
against the tide.
Immovable, I catch
a swell of pride
and ride it nowhere.
Only I hold sway.
No force of nature 
spirits me away.

A pity that I'm stuck
in shifting sand,
somewhere between
cool water
and
dry land.

This week's motif was acceptance.

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Monday, July 11, 2016

On Hiatus

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

I'm on hiatus from my life
but not by choice.
Don't get me wrong, as my kids' mom,
I have a voice.

And yet autonomy for mommies
comes with strings attached.
I'd drop the sun on a dead run
for anyone I've hatched.

So I am off on an adventure
I would rather miss.
"Have child will travel" is my motto.
Service is my bliss.

But could there be more happy reasons?
We are overdue.
Enough of flash floods, fires, and famine.
Let's try something new!

For Poets United, theme of "absence."

Thursday, June 30, 2016

Lovenotes


©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

Each whiff of Mama's bread
rose in his heart
infused his head
with wafting warmth
and scented joy.
He was a happy boy.

Her perfume graced the air:
Light citrus
buried in her hair
so soft yet spicy
in its way,
pushed all his cares away.

Outdoors, each breath smelled new.
Bright green bore fruit
of orange hue
and flowers white
as blossomed bliss.
Fresh juice, the sweetest kiss.

Aflutter on the line,
sheets swaddled him
in fragrance fine
as sacheted lovenotes,
potpourri
of sacred memory.


THE CHALLENGE? 
WRITE A POEM ABOUT SCENTS.
for more poems, click below

Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Dichotomy of a Rose

Dverse poets has a new assignment - a 44-word quadrille employing the word "rose." Greatly missing my usual meme (Magpie Tales, on hiatus just now), I am throwing my hand in with Dverse today to give this a try...

©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

 My love called me a rose.
I'm happy, heaven knows.
And yet, my stem is torn
'twixt beauty and the thorn.

In me, which does he see?
Bright bloom or injury?
Am I the prize...the prick?
Too risky for his heart to pick?

 for more poems, click below
https://dversepoets.com/2016/06/27/quadrille-12/

Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The Humble Pundit


The Humble Pundit
©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson

The world does not depend on me, I know.
I am no expert here, no talking head.
My currents drive no universal flow.
Wisdom will not go missing when I'm dead.
A smart plan could be made outside my view.
Minus my blessing, good might still be done.
Opinions formed without me have held true.
Speech may have merit ere I have begun.
Believe me, of my failings I'm aware.
(Though in all fairness, they are oddly scant.)
I am no sage, of course, and yet compare…
Most think in scribble; I think in Rembrandt.
Without my presence, mankind would endure.
But would it thrive? Of that, I am less sure.

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