Rhonda Bryant

Rhonda Cain
Road Scribes Of America ™ Member


Safe Flight
© Rhonda Cain

I woke this morning
to the cool crisp air.
Grabbed my leather,
ran a brush thru my hair.

Kissed my Love
and children goodbye.

Out to the bike,
on Angels wings I’d fly.

Open roads
and friendly faces.
Beating the pavement
to brand new places.

The ride was peaceful.
The sun was bright.
Lord keep me safe
until I finish my flight.

Clear my mind
and set my soul free.
There’s no better feeling
than just being me.

I return home
safe and sound.
Thinking of my ride
and the inner peace i have found.

Kiss my Love
and my children goodnight.
And thank the Lord
for an amazing safe flight.

Helping Hand
© Rhonda Cain

Stranded one day
on the side of the road.
Passenger cars ride by
carrying their precious loads.

No one stops
to offer a helping hand,
to this young biker
who has been traveling this land.

He was weather beaten
and broken down.
When along came an average old man
driving outside of town.

He stopped and he said
in a brotherly way,
“How can i help you?
Looks like you’re having a bad day.”

After all the young man had been through,
He managed to muster a smile.
He said, “Thank you sir for asking,
I’ve been here for awhile.”

“What seems to be the problem?”
The older man said.
As he looked at the boy’s face
it was easily read.

The boy said,”My bike has given up
and the cold is setting in.
This just hasn’t been my day,
where should I begin?”

“I got into a fight
with my girl today.
Lost my keys
before I got on my way.

Took a wrong turn
and ended up here.
No family or friends
that I could call near.

People aren’t as friendly
as they use to be.
Thank you again sir
for stopping for me.”

The man said,”Hard times come
and hard times go,
but son there’s one thing about me
you should know.

I too am a biker
and there’s a lot I understand.
For I have traveled these roads,
some small and some grand.

I know the feel of freedom
and the wind in my face.
The looks and the stares
and feeling out of place.

But I am here now
to help you on your way,
to show you that brotherly love
still exists today.”

So they worked together
til the boys engine roared.
Then they said their goodbyes
and homeward bound the young man soared.

To tell his story
of an average old man.
Who turned out to be a brother
that stopped to lend a helping hand.


© Rhonda “Dark Angel” Cain

When a lady
Rides with her man,
She places her life
In the palm of his hand.

She walks to his bike,
Straddles his seat.
Adjusts her attire
To the days heat.

Ready to ride.
Excited as hell.
She had a few nerves
Her man could tell.

“Just hold on to me
I won’t let you fall,
It’s the freedom of the wind
We are chasing after all.”

They rolled out the drive.
Her grip was tight.
“Don’t worry Sunshine,
It’s gonna be all right.”

When a lady rides
With her man,
She places her life
In the palm of his hand.

© Rhonda “Dark Angel “ Cain

Bobby was a young buck,
Living life too fast.
Hoping in some way,
To out run his past.

Beatings as a child,
An adulterous wife.
Wondering what he did
To deserve that life.

He got into drugs.
Drank all day.
“That ol’ boy should be dead,”
Some of the town folks say.

Then one night
A dream he had.
A different life
Where he was no longer sad.

The man in his dream
Said,” Son, listen to me,
Time to get back on track,
Time to set your soul free.”

Bobby cleaned up his act.
Started to save some dough.
Went to the bike shop
Little did he know.

With money in hand,
He bought that old scoot.
From crazy old Larry
Out on the 43 route.

He learned to ride
And freedom he found.
Thanks to that dream
His life he’d turned around.

Out running his past
Was far from his mind.
He had found inner peace
And left his old life behind.

Copyright 7/15/12 All Rights Reserved

A Cry In The Night

The sun has set
And the darkness now falls
The lonely wolf to her soulmate she calls.

She stands and she howls
Under the bright new moon
Wondering if her soulmate
To her will come soon.

The sound of her howl
Is a heartbreaking cry.
With emptiness inside
She gazes up toward the sky.

The errieness of night
Has long since set in
Lost and alone
She beckons for him.

Even with the darkness
Under the midnight skies
Nothing could hide
The pain and sadness in her eyes.

She longs to hear the sound of him
Traveling back thru the breeze
But the only sound returned to her
Was the rustle of the leaves.

With her desire to find him
And her need to be whole
The yearning to love him
Building up in her soul.

Alas she has given up
Her heart soul and mind
For she found her soulmate
They are two of a kind.

By: Rhonda “DarkAngel” Cain
@copyright Feb. 2013

When old man Jones…
Lost Linda, his wife.
He didn’t know what to do
For she was his life.

He stayed in the garage,
And fiddled with parts.
No plans or ideas
From the very start.

One day a group of guys
From his local town,
Stopped by for a visit
And turned it all around.

Each man in the group
Brought new ideas to the table.
They came by and helped him
When they were able.

The fellowship they had
Words could never explain.
The time they shared
Helped to dull his pain.

For two months now
They tinkered away.
They laughed and they joked
Along the way.

The end result,
What a beautiful sight.
Long lean lines
And black as night.

He called that bike Linda
And went on his way.
Thankful to his new friends,
Who stopped by that day.

To help a grieving old man
Find a new passion in life.
Who can roam the roads
With the memories of his wife

© Artwork by Rhonda Cain ©



Biker Wolf
@copyright 2012

He rides an iron horse
Long hair and leather
Through rugged terrain
In all types of weather.
Billy badass
Is what most people see.
Not the heart of a poet
He has shown to me.
A weekend warrior
Working twelve hour days
To provide for his loved ones
Without any praise.
Punching a time clock
To make ends meet
While his mind and his soul
Are roaming the streets.
Reminiscing the memories
And times on the road
Dealing with life
Never sharing his load.
At night he comes home
To his pad and his pen.
Writes down his thoughts
From beginning to end.
The most passionate soul
That I’ve ever known,
Paying the price
For the seeds he’s sown.
With a heart of gold
And a desire to write.
Protecting his family
This tame wolf would bite.
So next time you see
This ol’ biker with ink,
Before you pass judgment,
Please stop to think.
He may be a father,
A husband, a friend.
A man who’ll stand by you
Until the days end.


Miss Mabel © Rhonda”DarkAngel”Cain

I wanted to see mama.
She was always gone.
Working two jobs,
I often felt alone.
I knew why she did it.
Christmas was near.
She wanted our house
Full of holiday cheer.
A special gift for daddy
Was motivation enough.
He was a big ol’ bikerman
All rugged and rough.
He wanted that old roadstar
From the store downtown.
He never imagined he could afford
To ride it around.
She knew what he wanted.
She saved every dime.
She knew she could buy it.
If she just had more time.
On the way to the store
To see if it was still there.
Peering through the window
As the sun shows its glare.
She met an old lady
Miss Mabel was her name.
On the sunglasses she wore,
They had sparkling red flames.
She said, “Merry Christmas.”
Handed my mother a book.
It was a story of Christmas love
But at a closer look..
Inside was some money
Enough to finish daddy’s surprise.
My mother hugged Miss Mabel
As tears fell from her eyes.
She told my mom,
“I see you everyday,
Stopping by this window
As I tarry on my way.
My late husband was a biker.
God rest his sweet old soul.
Since he has been gone,
My life just hasn’t been whole.”
“If you accept this gift,
You can slow down.
Spend time with your family,
When the holidays come around.”
On Christmas Day
Miss Mabel was there.
Sweet and fragile
With snow white hair.
To see my daddy excited
Filled her heart with love.
She thought of her husband
Smiling down from above.
We all had a great Christmas
Full of surprise and good cheer.
Miss Mabel was family now
For many a year.
My dad often rode her
Reminding her of days long gone.
Knowing from this day forward
She would never be alone.