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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 | 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Withdrawn I wept lamenting the depart,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





Details | Free verse | |

Twigs

Twigs

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.


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 ?

TC
 


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.’


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!


Details | Verse | |

Yellow umbrella

Yellow umbrella

Her drafted shape (my thought) appeared aside the cloudy rainbow,
so gracefully on ether walked; romantic apparition,
as she was holding an umbrella that was smiling yellow,
and neath the clouds she visited my mindful recognition.

Amid the mist I saw her smile, rhapsodical emission,
she flew above, inside the dew, her vernal laughter blithesome,
caressed the promises of years before, adorned contrition
the bells then rang but very far, her bright umbrella's spectrum.

And I embraced her as I should, before time's definition,
the daffodils embellishing our dusk, but not the morrow
oh, how two souls had fled along our blooming last rendition,
while that umbrella covered hence, her inward raining sorrow.

© 03-31-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
((Iambic) decapentasyllabic verse)


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 
                       
                 


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


Details | Classicism | |

THE SILENT GARDEN

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.


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


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.





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 2014 
   All Rights Reserved


~10th Place~
Contest: Encounters With Flowers
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
Judged 11/28/2014


Details | Imagism | |

SUNFLOWER

SUNFLOWER

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. 


Details | Epyllion | |

EMPOWERING INNOCENCE

written 21st June 2013


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.... such 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, the curse we 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 the hour of our birth
 


Details | Haiku | |

Autumn

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.


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.


Details | Verse | |

Leeroy von Nebulae

Leeroy von Nebulae y Pitter Patter Supernova

Upon the sparkling April field, where the bell-flowers blossomed,
two poets stood amid the blooms, two writers of their wisdom,
where singing aves exalted them, cause deep in verse have fathomed
and treated poetry like none, with loyalty and serfdom.

Meantime the birds were chirping in the leafage of the forest
the two composers synthesized the crop of thoughts that random
became their poetry's free verse, philosophy, thus, modest,
the scriptures called bankrupted talk and artlessness of flotsam.

The authors, thus, amid the trees, and vervains' purple colors,
narrated 'bout the pepper steaks and pizzas pepperoni,
the grayish donkeys and their bray, through softened words of candor
conducting hence this spectacle and joyous ceremony.

What was occurring round the two was godly sent, on purpose;
the softened breeze, the sunny morn, the singing of the birdies,
and furthermore their kindest verse that both believed was flawless,
- the soul's redemption stands upon the praising by the toadies.

Obtusely raising, slow but firm, their tilted thoughts euphoric
have driven both to fly above this natural assemblage,
hence joyful they enjoined the cause of logic anti-strophic,
amid the clouds envisioning a pizza-Heaven-cottage.

Leeroy von Nebulae y Pitter Patter Supernova
expressed their nothingness of verse, that donkeys then recited
and stood impassive 'mid the blooms, their thoughts a dull cadenza,
evaluated by the birds, that chirped their notes, astounded.

© 03-23-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic decapentasyllabic verse)


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


Details | I do not know? | |

You and I



You and I.


You.

Your heart blazed,
with a warmth of spirit,

soothing,

alluring,

soaked in truth.



Your smile burned,
branding me permanently,

gentle,

tender,

enveloping my being.



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

unsaid,

yet fierce,

bathed in silent knowing.



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


I.

I squandered your generosity of spirit.

I vainly discarded your priceless poems.


Now I stand,

alone,

empty,

desolate,

wasting away,

rotting inside, day by day.




Details | I do not know? | |

A flower started to wander

A flower started to wander,
Not Far from her homeland.
 
Earlier, she laid on my hand,
I recall her scented existence.
 
Then she came to my lips,
never nature tasted as sweet.
 
Before our eyes could meet,
The rose rested on your heart.
 
And now I cannot foretell,
If the blush masking your face,
Is the rose remaining trace
Or our love fresh blooming.   


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, 

alone,

embracing each moment of detached, oblivious time.



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.


Details | I do not know? | |

boungiorno

hello! hey! boungiorno! what is the date?/
this world of dimensions created duality/
no letters/ no words/ are enough to express/
someone like you/ in reality/

i filled all your emptines/ MY still quiet bay/
as Jhon opened world in his Yoko/
you searched perfect princes/ looked for "right him"/
now at only one overman looking/

i swear/ i will hold you/ as much as i can/
would become all the axes/ and outer space/
voice is speared by the screaming wind/
falling down/ flakes to your place/

going crazy just seeing your knees/
don't regret anything/ my Benito/
unbelievable/ perfect/ unbearable/
you whisper/ "la comedia e finita"//


Details | Free verse | |

The last rose saying goodbye to love

Deep within a forest glade
grows a single beautiful fragrant rose
It's sweet aroma
floats upon a gentle summer breeze
from it's soft petals and folds.

But what makes this humble rose 
so special
is it's the last rose in the world to ever 
grow.

Such a rare precious flower
should be treated with tender loving care
but it loses it's once vibrant color
and fades and wilts  to brown
falling to the ground
only to be swept away
by a precarious turbulent wind
without the mere whisper of a memory
that it had ever existed
gone forever.


Peter Dome.2011.



Details | Rhyme | |

Love Blossom

My love is fragile but alive, 
Like a newly budding flower 

Longing for your warm touch 
Like a soft springtime shower

Where I will colorfully blossom, 
Pedals stretching out to you wide 
Fragrantly releasing its emotion 
Held deep inside  

It will be prime for the picking 
A bountiful harvest you could reap 
A succulent gift of pure love 
And forever yours to keep 

It’s your magical life giving light 
That’s all it will need 
Or it will shrivel and die 
Like a lonely forgotten weed.   


Details | I do not know? | |

She

She

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...



Details | Free verse | |

Window

In one corner of my room,
That is shaped like a tomb,
There is a window, where I sit
And see my world through it.

I see the rising sun,
I see the melting dew,
I see the blooming flowers,
I see the sky’s changing hues.

Through it
I embrace the fading sun,
I live the joyous rains,
I feel the flowery fragrance,
I walk those lonely ways.

Through it
I float with the summer clouds,
I breathe the winter breeze,
I touch the autumn leaves,
I celebrate the cuckoo’s springtime songs.

Through the window,
I see my world.
Neither the autumn leaves,
Nor the springtime songs;
Neither the winter sunshine,
Nor the summer rains;
Would have been great
Had it not been through my window rails.

Through my window,
I see the world.
In the window, lies the entire bliss;
Beyond the window is only an illusion.

Suyash Saxena


Details | Rhyme | |

Arizona Spring

The honeysuckle nectar is gathered with a buzz Cactus flowers perform their sweet encore, just because Sandals tip toe in short skirts, so busy are the eyes Spilling ink are poets, minding minds of the wise Love is in the air breezing through limbs and leaves Newlyweds sniffing with mouths under dancing trees Spring has sprung and love is singing everywhere While country clocks crawl and standing still is Time Square


Details | Free verse | |

Kiss of Sunshine

a roses moisture licked by the lips of the sun
blooming feverishly in the love of the light
metabolizing it's generosity warming it's core
tantalized, the flower knows no bounds

basking in the spheres' line of sight
utilizing it's tender touch of security
sharing the space occupied by the soft rays
hypnotized, the rose reaches upward

reaching
reaching
leaning timidly towards the kiss of the sun


Details | I do not know? | |

Ludwig and Vincent

Ludwig & Vincent...


‘They said that you were mad, Vincent’, whispered Ludwig to a silent Vincent.


‘I still am, quite insane’, replied Vincent, ‘but you, dear Ludwig, you were deaf, and mad, I hear’.


‘I listened with my soul, Vincent, I heard it all without hearing a sound. Yes, mad and deaf indeed I too, still am’, Ludwig said, smiling at Vincent.


‘just look at them now’, Vincent replied, smiling with Ludwig, ‘look at them now, as they hawk sunflowers, blissfully oblivious of exquisite starry nights’.


‘yes’, smiled Ludwig, ‘look at them now, they crave joy, yet they cannot hear an ode, dear Vincent, they cannot hear it! They do not care enough to hear’.


‘Yes, dear Ludwig’, Vincent sighed, ‘they do not care enough to hear’.


Ludwig and Vincent smiled, each tugging an ear.