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Metaphor Flower Poems | Metaphor Poems About Flower

These Metaphor Flower poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Flower. These are the best examples of Metaphor Flower poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

Whiskey Flower

Swallowing nectar from a whiskey flower,
Raining inside me like a summer storm shower.
A fire in full bloom burning with every sip,
Unfolding the silk petals of my sun kissed lips.

Eyes sink shut against the jukeboxes serenade
Vibes in lyrics mesmerizingly played.
Slow the seasons of my soul become exposed.
Fruit from the garden of Eden readily grows.

With every drink of courage, I ready my will,
A ticket to heaven, yet my heart beats still.
Numbers on a napkin, wrote in lust colored ink,
Experience pleads from the bottom of my drink.

Stung by the thorns of a whiskey flower, I bleed.
Dark are the droplets of unquenchable need.
The voice of a clock tells me it is time to go.
Stumbling into a darkness, many will never know.


Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2014

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Red Roses Fade To Black

Red velvet petals, only I, seduce,
With hidden danger under the disguise,
My fingers feeling shyly, I reduce,
Thorns sharpen, ready, waiting the unwise.

Before me, bleeding poison, I assume,
This flower withered, shriveled the entire,
A dark extracted substance, the perfume,
No beauty, only sorrow, I admire.

Withdrawn I wept lamenting the depart,
A rosebud, crimson, youthful, I erased,
A lifeless flower, never I impart,
nor taken with affection, I embraced.

Written by Kelly Deschler  October 23rd, 2014

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Sonnet | |

Flower Or Weed

Flower Or Weed?

We seek out special flowers in the field,
That stand among the weeds in scarce array…
Quick pluck them from the thorns, a tiny yield,
Arrange them, stem by stem for our display.
Then serving on a table, shelf or sill,
Their fragrant beauty eases stress and strife,
While in the field, the crowded weeds will still
Meander on in wild pursuit of life.

The weeds grow dense and tangled in their clime,
Drink deep of soil and live for sun and rain,
While full, rich flowers, giving of their prime,
Will sooner wilt, their goodness spent for gain.

What's best to be—a carefree, rambling weed,
Or special flower, plucked to serve a need?

Sandra M. Haight

~3rd Place~
Contest: Screwed XI
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Judged: 03/01/2016
~10th Place~
Contest: Encounters With Flowers
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged 11/28/2014

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

Details | Alliteration | |


The red rose may be beautiful or grand
Sensual even LOVELY.
THEN....I strolled the garden BLUE
I saw the INDIGO ROSE 

The BLUEST I had ever seen
A TEASING picture of the 
stunning QUEEN.
The blue ROSE is EXOTIC, she feeds 
The WINSOME ROSE shame with
Professional precision on a petal plate
Of pleasing purity.

She sends the entire garden into bland oblivion.
A blue diamond glimmering in a GOLDEN heaven.
All other roses WILT of envy clamoring at her

When I set eyes upon this ROSE it so inspired me
To see what had not been seen.
The INDIGO GARDEN and all its splendor
Magnificent  presence
Pleasantly BEING. 

MAGNETIC practically hypnotizing
These are the INDIGO GARDEN guarded
Secrets I've been knowing


Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |



Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.

Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.

The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.

Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet | |

- A Little Bit Of Heaven -

Such a romantic place on a beach in Monte Carlo 
Simple little things in life catching one's breath 

Moonlight glinting of waves breaking off a white sandy beach 
Faraway thoughts brown eyes crying in an ocean dream song 

Spell of romance makes one forget the sense of anything 
Silent whispers echoes binding our chain together tides speak 

Do you remember the white doves that followed us along the beaches 
Each link in your arm magic walks closer feelings sing inside a joyous choir enchants

Nature nurtured by the desire to fulfill dreams makes time stop 
Holds deep sea emotions a galloping white steed races home in warm waves kiss 

The natures mesmerizing perfume of fragrant flowers 
Where destiny paints the joy in butterflies dance on a warm loving breeze 

Such is the passion in the depths of ones soul 
Jewels needle vision flies without wings heaven sings in a spiral coloring rainbows 

No barriers closed no reasons withstand 
The midnight moon shades blue embraced one shadow two become one dream 

A co write written by Liam Mcdaid and Anne-Lise Andresen

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Imagism | |


One crystal flower swelled in a garden, 
standing with pride and beauty all day, 
Bees tried to steal her nectar and taste. 
One day, somebody's hand cut her stem, 
this crystal flower stolen and taken away. 
Each petal was scattered on the ground, 
sparkling dimly, breathless and tired. 
Days went by and all flowers bloomed. 
A new day of spring burst with  hope. 
One morning, a gardener went to visit, 
found scattered crystals covered in mud. 
He picked each piece 'til he'd found each one, 
brought them all home and polished. 
He patiently glued every broken line, 
until a new crystal flower arose. 
His hands found a new paradise. 
Though once was broken, 
now stands purity and grace.

**5th Place Winner In Nette Onclaud's Contest: METAPHOR: CRYSTAL

Entry for: METAPHOR: Crystal Free Poetry Contest 
               of Nette Onclaud
written by:Aiyah De Torres
Second Language: English

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014

Details | Imagism | |

Anima Mystique

A requiem can faintly be heard 
     in the springtime breeze
as dandelion's morph from gold 
     blossoms to a crown of 
seeds in downy tufts to begin their 
     airborne journey to
germinate and recreate with a drive 
     to survive even the 
harshest weather, a plethora of 
     pesticides, and weeding.

Ah, can not the feminine form be 
     celebrated in comparison?
As her entourage of suitors lifts her 
     spirits to soar blissfully
until she establishes that one special 
     connection that causes
her bloom, that innate ineluctable 
     calling to mate and procreate.
Though trials, illness, and hardships appear,
     future generations ineffably endure
in season's springtime, as love renews life.

May 4, 2016
Animus/Anima--Part 1: Anima - Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tom Quigley

Definition of anima:
 NOTE: Just for the etymology of the word Anima dear, Connie! Anima, Animal, Animation and so on are words that come for the Greek word "Anemos" which in the Greek philosophy meant the divine wind which filled the universe and which wind "anemos" Man breathed in and became "Alive" animated!
-thank you for this Demetrios.

Note: I may have done this contest all wrong?

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain | |

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue

Roses are red,
violets are blue,
this flower bed,
is just for you.

Among the stone,
and in the mud,
a flower shone,
a beautiful bud.

It grew so tall,
proud and strong,
it learned all,
right and wrong.

Giving it water,
and warm sun,
your only daughter,
learned about fun.

Mommy come see,
look what I did,
now I can be,
a grownup kid.

This flower bed,
is just for you,
with roses, red,
and violets, blue.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Flower

As the time passes by season to season. I wait and wonder if this flower will ever grow. Planted so
many  times what seemed to be the right place , but once again it was not right at all. Struggling to
blossom so it can show  its color and beauty to the one that matters most of all. Thirsting for the warmth 
of the sun , starving for the attention , not really asking for much at all. So many times it felt so right , 
but things would change so quickly in the middle of the night and all would be lost. Slowly it would wither 
till there was no hope of blossoming one day. As the time passes by tears fill my eyes and there is nothing 
left to say. I only know that this flower will grow , but not this way. It must  be cared for and understood , 
loved and nourished so it will blossom and grow stronger , more beautiful then any flower you've ever known.
Will this flower ever grow? This is something I do not know. Sad as it may seem, it's even sadder to me , That I 
am that flower that will never grow , didn't you know ?


Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER | Year Posted 2013

Details | Classicism | |


The Silent Garden
Blowin in the breeze 
I bob and bow and flex my leaves
I am a garden-- for all to admire
the one you visit often
You see my beauty, 
I never say a word.
You could have visited
and enjoyed my genus,
but you plucked out the 
strongest and most beatific.
My benignity 
overwhelmed wisdom
As your wisdom showed itself sallow 
next to the colors that emoted 
from your emotions. Red all red.
Out of control you have
selfishly removed me.
Never do I recover;
As you Placed me in a vase, 
with stale water and no sunlight. 
I withered under your care.

Copyright © Vicki Acquah | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

the Rose

                 The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows 
                colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst

                enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
                as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.

                My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
                 as if in return for the love and beauty you feel

                hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~

                The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
                for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding

                The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
                It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength 

                whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
                your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose

                 For I am your God  your existence is not over yet .
                        You must Live ~You must Bloom 

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Tanka | |

Garden's Beauty

Its charm, its bloom
A gift of spring breeze
Disappears fast
Something not oozing from heart
Something borrowed doesn’t last

Copyright © Mohammad Yamin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad | |

Hi, Bye

Loves magic riddle, shepherds the flower,
blossoming elegance, land to sea.
I never knew, how that love grew, 
until I laid eyes on Lucy Dee.

Blindly sifting through the hazy maze, 
emerging aware, holding a key.
That fixed a hole, which filled my soul,
thanks to the love of Lucy Dee. 

The force behind the forces of life,
made me question how to see,
Suddenly views, were less askew,
thanks to the insight of Lucy Dee.

Now I care not, for transparent fog,
or the rain that pours for weeks.
For the weather, never weathers,
the amorphous Lucy Dee.

When my petals finally wilt and wane,
storms bring me to weary knees.
The radiant shine, forever binds,
lucy’s light within me; and without,
by loves decree.

Copyright © Nicholas Rush | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |


Where did the White Flower come from
I wanna know, I gotta know
where did he come from 
spring from
‘cause the world is split in two
ancients wars being fought between
ME and YOU
where did he come from
spring from
some say Frankenstein
the mad scientist 
the darkest part of mind
scary tales passed along through time
where did the White Flower come from
I want the truth this time 
further than cavemen and neanderthals  
love expands my mind 
someone's been watching  The Others 
wasting time 
white sisters and brothers 
the truth this time
pull back the drapes and absorb the light 
delicate flower, moon flower, the calmer light
where did the White Flower spring from 
he sprung from earth
separation is disillusionment
we were "separated" at birth
White-light skin African
another reflection of earth
another version of Black beauty 
what a beautiful earth

Copyright © BLUE33 NailahBaniti | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Dream of a Saguaro

Although flowers bloom it’s awkward to say that they are flowers
because they are not flowers, but thorns disguised as yellow pistils 
and stamens surrounded by the petals made of pieces of colorless
paper. Moreover, their fragrance bears no meaning at all because 
they bloom in the night, 

and each time when the scorching sun brands the cactus’ skin 
it cries out loud from the pain of the thorns pierced through 
it’s burning flesh to form renewed skin, 
then, surprised by a heartrending cry, 
the birds flap their wings to fly in the air abandoning the cactus.

However the birds may be, they only are lifeless drones 
flying over a desert. And since they are lifeless, they 
don’t know the meaning of life, and that’s why they only see

the thorny flowers standing open arms in the midst of the desert that is 
filled with ashes of death—nuclear wastes, abandoned poisonous chemical
solutions polluted waters that drive lives to the edge of death.

To the saguaro cactus standing in the midst of man-made miseries, 
nonetheless, dreamed to have an audience with 
the mystic Queen of the Andes, 

and in order for him to fulfill his dream,
to have a long journey toward the south moving along with the sun, 
and then, after crossing the delicate line marked zero,* 
climbing up the Andes for a higher ridge that is higher than the drone. 

And as you go higher the wind starts to rise;
when the wind gets stronger to cut through the skin,
then saguaro’s thorns start to prick its own body from 
loneliness unbearable,  

and that is the time ripe for
the mystic Queen of the Andes to reveal herself 
from the clearing fogs, behind the thick and heavy veil of clouds.

She appears in a dress embellished with tens of thousands of 
not overly extravagant or pompous but graceful flowers that 
bloom centenary. 

She is the tree, immaculate and with inviolable dignity,  
she bears the blooms in the serenity of the high and deep mountain.
Today too, the saguaro cactus under scorching sun dreams 
a dream of seeing the elegant Queen of the Andes someday,
even afar it, stands as ever. 

Enveloped in the cloud, though Queen hides her image
she has left her sweet scent behind, 
in the sweet scent she left, the thorn flower saguaro stands
willing to wait another one hundred years to see her again.

*Zero: The Equator  

Copyright © Su Ben | Year Posted 2015

Details | Haiku | |


Strelitzias die.
Shrunken birds of paradise
sag between green leaves.

* It is now autumn in the Southern Hemisphere.
Strelitzia is a genus of five species of perennial plants, native to South Africa.  A common name of the genus is bird of paradise flower.

Copyright © David De la Croes | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple

My Wishes are Simple

My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.

My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.

My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Imagism | |



All yellow and big and radiant
Commanding a tiny city centre lawn   
Looking top heavy and a little nervous
Bright smile at all the sullen passers-by
All too hot and hurried to notice her
Holding tightly to her pole
A tip-toe ballerina swaying minutely
A  proud one-leg Masai with a spear
Looking directly in my eye and saying
You’ve never seen a flower before?
Too busy to stop and chat?
Ok,  go on by,  but remember  -
This garden is mine, and I rule here. 

Copyright © Sidney Beck | Year Posted 2014

Details | Epyllion | |


A single rose grows with purity, into a field en-fenced
 from that moment it buds watch, as its passion and grace intertwine
It begins to bloom with such confidence
 showing off its elegance, with complete dominance
For you are left totally unaware, of an entire field of daisies swaying with poetry
 such passion and grace still exists in the heart of humanity
The worlds future completely relies on peace to become heard
 but how far has man let it go, our hearts hold hope for the same entity
Peace, love and harmony
 for those who choose to believe
Jesus freed that curse we'd received by Adam and Eve
 they have found love and peace
Taking it upon themselves they help the next man, to be free
 within God's own time, we will see heaven on earth
For it is still a gift we all receive, at our hour of birth


Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

Nature's Sigh

The Black butterfly waves away her adorations
All she seeks is seclusion, subsuming slave to mortification
The Dear Air is all she can breath, captive of imaginary dreams
The Beacon resonates, but the hope isolates
The Wasteland's silky fingers caressing the virgin's face

So she is now, the covet of the damned
Programmed to every victim's pain
Carrying the weight of every sorrow
Drowning in wrongs she does not know
But paradise is at loss; she must go

Nature sighs after the bite
All my hopes fading
Don't look at me with those sorrowful eyes
How do you know exactly what I'm feeling?
I'm just the ghost flower passing by
And you can hear nature's sigh

Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ekphrasis | |

And she lies sheltered beneath the Oak

(There was roast chicken too with potatoes and cheese, though in the picture not seen! Before the shot they had been gobbled up...)

A table laid and baskets heap'd,
Sheltered in the deep scented darkness of the trees;
The wild strawberries picked ripe in the elven woods,
Jam in the pots delicious sweet.
Wine's enchanted icy cold, tumblers filled up to the brim,
Been touched with specks of gold, poured from a bubbling spring.

At the foot of the hills, and dressed in black,
I stood there still with your ghost, and a few yellow'd leaves.
Rising against the wind, a rose bloom dances through the breeze;
Sends her perfume to the silver greens,
And to the far corners of the vale.

Under the lids, dripping dew from twigs, I watch
The rolling mist that hides her face, 
And the forsaken wedding feast.
A shadow falls on her heart.
Beneath the tall oak her secret bed,
The flower simply drops to the earth,
And there it goes to sleep.
As the distant music, and the autumn wind from hills;
Fall into a hush, the final notes recede.

For Giorgio AV's : Ekphrasis Contest 01

Copyright © gautami phookan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

The Broken Girl-not me

Is my life not tortured enough for you to see? 
I am broken as can be. 
My heart is torn. 
My tears stain these perfect floors.  
Why are singing with glee? 
Why do you not care about my every plea? 
I am trapped in your arms. 
I am the hopeless moth. 
How did you pick me? 
What is it that you see? 
A girl untouched by life? 
A flower blooming in the desert? 
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.  
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.

Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

You and I

You and I.


Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,



soaked in truth.

Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,



enveloping my being.

Your love was complete,
from the depths of your soul,


yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.

Your dreams were poetic,
fluttering in the afternoon breeze,
infused with the distilled essence of rhyme.


I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.

Now I stand,




wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |



She smiled, gently,
her warmth infusing me,
with a serene stillness of time.

She settled, slowly,
in my waking thoughts,
a soothing balm of simple joy.

She remains, scribbled,
on the walls of my fractured heart,
memories of happiness that once breathed...

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

and I will come

…and I will come.
When the first snow falls down/ 
when the fall gives its rights/ 
to the winter/
you know I will come/
for good or for bad/
I’ll board the train/
Passing by / stations/ and countries/
I promised/ and I remember/
You said “there’s no fortuitous meetings/

…and I will come.
When the first snow falls down/
When you’ll lose the trace/
When my firmest snickers/ wipe out/
I will/ I will come…
Unexpectedly/ knowing solely the door/
Just the road / for sure/
Before/ take you I’ll ask/
“are you ready to go?” / 
You are ready/ I know/
All the noise doesn’t matter/
I don’t haste/ will be later/

…I will come.
When it finally turns out/
That November is overthrown by December/
When the first snow falls down/
Will be clear/ that nobody is remembered/ 

And I will come…
Somewhere in chest/ between ribs/
You slashed me/ with thoughts/ 
I can feel it with lips/ crawling under my cloths/
Our world is alive/ our life/ we’re alike/
And I….

I will come.
When the first snow falls down/
When the death is changed into fate/
When the winter gives up/ 
To wait/ for spring/
to stay with shining sun/
I will come.

Copyright © Ilya Emelin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse | |

Daisy Pines

What I was once I'll never be again
For too long I've stood open under sun
  I peeked at dawn with eyes that shone brightly
  And bloomed full unto perfection, then stood
  Gazing firm into mid-day's scorching glare
  Though I grew weary, my vigor wilting,
Twas evening's light that brought me sweet respite
And I gave way to slumber this good night.

TLH   ©  12-30-2012

Copyright © Tanya Harrington | Year Posted 2012

Details | Alliteration | |



Sunflower sprouted happiness yet only just a weed,
   a gardens hated nemisis this beloved bad seed.
Mimicking society using others resources to feed,
   erected thick headed sunlight thief of greed...

Metaphorically speaking, this I do believe,
   a sunflowered populace thrives to deceive.
Just as a flower unable to uproot and leave,
   starving in the shadow behind this weed it grieves...

Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? | |

The Sieve of Time

The Sieve of Time

Cast ashore,
along the banks of time,

whirling through the passing years,
clinging to my futile scribbles set in rhyme,

Cast ashore,
thrust into an unrehearsed pantomime,

clenching slivers of joy as weariness descends,
lulled into a peaceful slumber exhilaratingly sublime.

Cast ashore,
hazily adrift, a dandelion seed on the wings of time,

trapped in the sieve of spiralling memories,
caught between pristine bliss, and reeking slime.

Cast ashore,
flung aside for no discernible crime,

my human heart thuds with elusive hope,
though battered, bruised, and covered in grime,

I stagger ashore, 


embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013