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Best Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poems

Below are the all-time best Rhonda Johnson-Saunders poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

Endless Love


In my soul, I shall never find 
another who completes me like you.
Our endless love, for strength 'tis true,
I rely to face those days of resign.
But always does my heart remind
of blessings from heavenly blue.
The ties of eternity like glue
shall always endure, bridge and bind.

My heart renewed was once threadbare
worn and ragged under bitter tears.
Oh, the first dance of love as a pair!
Tears of joy displace the trembling fears.
A love entwines two hearts aware
as endless bands of gold appear.




Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

A Failed Marriage

My shallow waters have failed to hide the deeper agony pulsating inside. I could forgive your lies but not forget. Do you have remorse, do you feel regret? Feelings were buried in a shallow grave as we failed to mend the love God gave. You failed to speak and I failed to listen, Fingers are pale where golden bands once glistened. Broken hearts called to each other refusing to bend. Not so long ago, I called you my best friend. Now, I'm left to grieve my failed marriage. The love we shared, your words disparaged. I could forgive your lies but not forget. Where is your remorse or display of regret? I can no longer burden myself with this shame. Standing tall, I have given my sorrow a name. I struggled to save our once happy home, but you chipped it away when you decided to roam. So goodbye I shout to you and to failure! Moving forward, your love is no longer my cure. My life is becoming a new adventure, and memories of your face are becoming a blur. Yes, I could have forgiven your lies, tried to forget, if your heart felt remorse or just a little regret. * a work of fiction For Nailed or Failed Contest (Black Eyed Susan)


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

Christmas Snow


On wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns
the shimmering snow in magical light,
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.

Innocent faces gleam, old are reborn
as fanciful flakes seem to rise in flight
on wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns.

Powder settles, softening sharpest thorns
as spring’s flowers sleep beneath drifts of white
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.

Oh, joyous wonder, no past years to mourn!
The hills and trees sparkle like child’s eyes bright,
on wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns.

Our gifts are unwrapped, the day’s all but worn
and festive flakes frolic well into night
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.

Through frosty pane, we watched peaceful day born
with glistening nature’s brilliance in sight. 
On wings of swept sky, the dawn’s sun adorns
from winter’s first snow on snug Christmas morn.


for Gail's Christmas Snow Contest, 11/26/14 


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

A Poem For PD

A unicorn took flight with brilliant, rainbow wings ascending from the heart of a joyous poet. Dark eyes shined like jewels, smiling from high, parting dark clouds and unwrapping gifts of love and friendship. Words of light and purest energy reached to heaven on a spiral staircase where blessed angels extended hands of healing to a poet's heart. They know her well, her hands are creators of many a masterpiece - sharing, befriending, inspiring, encouraging - soulful in words and action, passionate in her artistry, selfless of her time...see how her admirers crowd around as the unicorn descends once again from her rainbow flight? All wait with feet on the ground, sharing prayers, asking the angels to sing so she may feel and know she is not alone. Never, ever alone in the fight. Too many of us have been where she has been, felt the darkness pierce our hearts. With hope and faith, the sun will shine again. The angels will sing. She will ride that unicorn again and share her poetic heart again, smile again, laugh again, teach and inspire. She is more than just PD, she is Linda - friend, daughter, mother, grandmother, nurturer - The darkness cannot have her. She is needed in the light. for Shadow Hamilton's Fighting Depression Contest, 12/1/14


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

A Bicycle in the Wind


On a bicycle, freedom's flight Pedaling 'cross the horizon Reflections of blue in my sight With dreams of lassoing the sun A girl's spinning wheels leave the ground On a bicycle, freedom's flight O'er the treetops without a sound Veils of darkness fall out of sight Wishing in the morning star's light Bright tomorrows, I wait to greet On a bicycle, freedom's flight My pink beauty with flowered seat Dark days return and tides do rise Still, memories soothe in the night Two wheels like wings of butterflies On a bicycle, freedom's flight


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

What the Eyes Cannot See


Kyoko walks alone in the morning tide, 
comforted for a fleeting moment by salty air.
She feels the same sand between her toes 
as when she was a barefoot little girl, in a time
she felt safe, when the eyes of her mother protected her 
like a suit of armor - before the mighty wall of water, 
the “harbor wave”, towered over her village 
near Fukushima, washing her happy childhood away. 
Her dear mother, her security, her everything
never came home that day. 

Many months later, her father, a local fisherman, 
has lost his ability to cry, laugh or tell her why.
His silent eyes, cold like frost, are dead 
like the poisoned fish he nets every morning. 
In many ways, Kyoko lost both of her parents 
on that haunting day - forced to grow up long before 
the water receded, before the nuclear leak, 
before this new, austere existence.

Night deepens the despair. She is loneliest 
when darkness invades. She prays for the crickets 
return. They no longer sing her to sleep, and the stars
have faded, no longer shining through her open window.
Even the grasshoppers have died…
from restless sleep, night calls her to the mirror 
to find her mother’s dark eyes staring back at her – 
a curse she hopes will one day become a blessing,
a hope that one day her father will look at her again...

With tomorrow, her greatest burden will return. 
She will wake along side the broken-winged butterfly
with her duties in mind. Then, she’ll wear her stoic face 
to the marketplace. Father says he will soon lose 
his fishing boat. She has heard visitors from the city say 
only a fool would eat the fish from nearby waters, 
the same fish she fries most every day. No one knows
the global impact, they say. She hears foreign words
like radiation, disease and mutation while she sells 
the shiso and wasabi root from their garden stand,
feeling fear she does not fully understand but one day will.
She only knows how to survive today…


For Debbie Guzzi's Global Poetry Contest, 11/19/14      


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

Fading Porch Light

Fading porch light lures with pale glow
a circling moth, dull-beige and bare.
As starlight ties vast sky in bows, 
I shy away from ruthless glare. 

Night holds secrets I’ll never know  
of bold ventures and starry-eyes 
of love; cast alone in shadows,
I cry. The fading porch light dies.   

Unwelcomed guest, the moth again
boasts of heights, flitting and spurring 
my desperate cries - through open
window, lifting higher, whirring.

Moth seeks light on wings now broken
forever gone, my dreams unspoken…   


for Chopped II Contest, 11/4/14


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

A Tightrope Walk


I balance on a tightrope. Surrounded by 
lovers and dreamers, I teeter above a raging sea.
I admire their glossy smiles and envy
their bright-eyed confidence; envy is a sin, I know.
Please forgive me; a lie would carry more guilt.
The waves crash in dark shades of gray, still they smile.
Their laughter from all around pierces the thin air.
I teeter alone; I may or may not fall.
My fate is undetermined, in my own hands;
the tragedy today may be tomorrow's comedy.
Their laughter echoes...
On a day like today, the fresh tears sting. 
If only I could wake from the nightmare,
pry open the windows of my tortured soul.
If only I could charm the feral...if only.
Oh, the skeletal monsters we are bequeathed!
Yes, I understand the meaning of loyalty.
A fool believes the wicked will fall.
A fool believes the merciless will change.
Can a hollow chest develop a beating heart?
I chisel stone walls, searching for a glimmer of hope,
a flicker of humanity behind steel beams.
Could you spare a token of remorse?
I dare to drop a coin in a fountain of wishes.
A pocketful of coins jingle as my wishes sink
to the bottom of the venomous waters. 
I am patient as I teeter on the tightrope.
The audience cheers taking pleasure in my pain.
Blood pulsates through my veins, yet I feel cold winds
penetrate my soul. I refuse to cower or
live in contention... 
Blood is thicker than ink. 
I find my balance in the written word, a gift of life! 
Words sometimes spill from a bleeding heart.
I beseech the ghosts of the past to end their haunting.
Their breath is the frigid wind. I find shelter...
Tempered is the skin of the wounded. Who knows
what may lie beneath the flesh. In the mirror,
you may find a frightened child in need of love.
Most find the strength to balance and stand.
Every step brings me closer to solid ground...
I am reaching for you. Please take my hand.


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

Earth and Sky


Earth magnificent, finite spinning, shifting, living shores, oceans, horizons, heavens beaming, reflecting, inspiring celestial, infinite Sky
for Regina Riddle's Diamante Contest, 11/7/14


Details | Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Poem

I Am


I am here but only briefly, 
a believer in today, tomorrow
and ever after. I am a blustery wind
shaking the foundation and a gentle 
breeze rustling the leaves.
I am an observer of the beautiful, 
graceful, awkward and absurd,
feeling like a spy amongst
voices and visions, kinetic energy,
filling the spaces between footsteps
and the void between us.   
I am an over thinker, one woman,
always wondering, waiting 
for the rain on a sunny day.
I often remind myself:
I am not the center of this world or any other.
Still, I must find my place even when 
circumstances change. I do not like change.
Like a sturdy oak, I am rooted and earthy,
but sometimes…I want to spread my wings
and land on a rugged mountaintop.
I am a rock star yearning to ramble 
from city to city, finding solace
in a sea of faces. Oh, to just get lost in the 
music and crowds would be sublime!
I am passionate on the inside, 
reserved on the outside –
complex in all my contradictions -
a broken child with shattered dreams
yet I still find hope in each sunrise and
peace with each sunset.
I am always searching for more time,
just one stolen moment to take a deep breath.
I am forgiving and want to be forgiven.
I am a nurturing mother. 
My sons are my reason to get out of bed
when I’d rather hideaway.
My sons are my joy (both scream
for me right now). 
I am a juggler, trying to keep
all my balls in the air, and also 
absentminded for obvious reasons. 
I am a woman who loves to be loved –
complex in all my contradictions.
I am not that different than you.
We all just want to feel connected.


By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for Frank Herrera’s I Am Contest, 11/5/14


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