Best Cupping Poems

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We Are One


Dear Ancient Sister
I hear your distant calls finding me on a gentle breeze
You have lived in my dreams for many seasons

My voice 
Your voice
My soul
Your soul
And our Coming of Age

I have always known you...
I have heard your 
Quiet whispers echoing in
The night coming...

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When I close my eyes I hear the sound of your voice floating in the 
air like dandelion fur, catching the breeze and dancing upward.

I remember the day when we camped in the rain and wrapped 
ourselves in blankets to keep warm, hearing the acorn...

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On the south-western side of the old mission school,
near the corner of First Street,  where blackberries grew
a field claimed by youngsters was crosshatched with tracks.
It was riddled by gophers and, nettled with fox-tails
and the children's bare feet had constructed thin trails,
cupping deep paths that...

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When pebbles knead the holes in my shoes
These torn eyes writhe from  my orphan blues,
A lost soul quivering in the cold...
I feel alone, a birth date untold
No parents cupping my sullen face;
While time grates in this runaway place.

They say that I was darn negated,
Like...

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Elevating Heart



Sweat of Life
Piercing pain of Sorrow
Pendulum of gratitude in motion

How fortunate to experience  
To Feel
To delight in the depths of emotion
I burst knowing I am capable of such workings of the 
Heart, mind and soul

I am you
You are me
We are we
 
We are...

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By
The back
Door I find
Her chipped red bowl
Sunk into cold mud
Cupping my hands, I hold
Gently, my last piece of her
I think she knew, that gray morning
Putting her nose on my lap to say
Goodbye - but I, distracted by jobs and
Chores, left her asleep on her frayed...

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Summer returns, reigning in glory
tempting my beanstalk to climb
and tiny fairies to faithfully fly,
laughing out loud all the while.
With lush trees twirling in full skirts,
and tulips trumpeting their joyful greetings,
sunrays parade in triumphant procession
of season’s enchanting magic. 

I planted seeds of magic beans
in the garden...

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My verse has been chosen as Poem of the Month at Sherborne Abbey!

The curious offerings of sacristans
Are given in obscure humility
The symbol of the cupping of the hands
Enshrines the essence of this mystery
The dawn unlocked; the turning of a key
The mystic world behind the little...

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Tides pull you into waters clear,
cupping both hands, she tastes
your pain. 

Her lustrous foam draws briny tears;
waves sigh in seas retraced,
then wane.


By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, 3/10/15
for Nette's Memento of Waters Contest
visual #4...

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Write me something,
From the depths of the dark,
Like you've pushed me hard against the wall,
And your fingers are splayed out over my skin,
Carassing the color into it.
Heart pounding hard,
Your hand cupping my juicy mound,
Rubbing me into dizzy circles.
I want the passion of your tongue,
Dancing with...

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A mystic rose smile that belonged to my mother this is what I recall   

My easel and I resting in the spirit,  by the grandeur of a morning tilt.  As the  
Yellow sunrays streak across the canvass, I think of...

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Ive forgotten what it feels like 
to be wanted, needed
He certainly does not speak of 
his need in words
He does not show it in his 
actions
Unless i am to take those few 
moments
Where he pulls me close to his 
warmth and falls asleep
Surely he still...

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Erotica what is it?
I’m not sure what it means
Is it something for sensual pleasure?
Or is it something in my dreams?
Is it perspiration glistening on a manly chest?
Or is when I have rivulets of perspiration, running between my breasts?
Is it lying on a beach somewhere when...

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The Loner goes on
Imagining friends
He heads for a coffee
With hopes to an end
 
He looks at the counter
Then raises his head
And wonders why
All his looks are of dead
 
He picks at his pocket
Not sure what’s inside
Hoping it’s nothing
Wanting outside
 
He tugs at his money
Begrudging his...

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