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Husband Metaphor Poems | Husband Poems About Metaphor
These Husband Metaphor poems are examples of Husband poems about Metaphor. These are the best examples of Husband Metaphor poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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If he were still here - What would he have me do - Not just clean and pick up after him. Not just cook and smile at him. Not just do all that a wife needs to, but just be all through and through. This is what he'd have me do.
Copyright © Marilyn Williams | Year Posted 2015
Among all beast from the Far East
This leopard is the beast of the east
He is so swift with clappers and claws
Claws that joy in breaking jaws
In or out of the many land laws
When you see him in a fare hunt he never withdraws
Until he gets his full fair share in the air,
Flesh of his hare,
His portion and share
With all strength and broad length
He sets his priority in the dark though bright
Because he needs them right without a slight "fight"
He moves and writes women’s plight
At heart as he suppresses his might
Watch him on the telly
His steps are welly
As he faces his in-laws with his tail under-the-belly
Do you wonder?
Yes, you ponder and wonder
How this leopard can ever be shy
Of cause it isn't a lie
He never looks up in the sky
As he faces his mother-in-law for a bride!
This leopard needs a ride
He will no longer hide
But slide and glide
To meet his in-laws
Though slow, to glow and follow
His bride on the other side
To unhook his bide through good guide
On the other side of the site and sight so wide
Copyright © Dennis Omutu | Year Posted 2014
I do not know?
Passion in D-Major
Feeling, the sensuous brush-
strokes on a canvas,
to a symphonic crescendo,
of our shared heartbeats,
fading between the notes,
feeling your soft body entwined
your form bathed in my infinite
our orchestral desire rising,
conducting a shared fusing of
... the music echoing ...
over the precipice,
on the brink of dazzling rainbow
lost in the void,
of an eternal instant,
plunging through the depths of
for a prolonged,
bouquet of shared time.
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
The touch of your whispers has blown through the air
And the wave of summer disappears in the sand
There’s nothing to stop these memories are gone
Let the playbook now rest for the feelings they’ve stopped
Slowly it turns the small hands on your wrist
The knots in your belly have clenched like a fist
You picture the east and close her eyes
For the dawn’s a coming in all of our lives
The night’s now bleeding forever it tilts
Circling the orbit no rest from the filth
Rivers are flowing and spirits are dim
And the skies from the ocean will always stand still
The pain from the east has moved to the west
These days are numbered just like the rest
Blind in the rivers the hand clears it away
The whole world has changed in less than a day
Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013
Full of sunlight
dipped out from a spring named hope by a mountain foot
in the jar that we bought after a long period of hesitation
at a time of making a new home
is slopping from side to side.
We roamed together in the wilderness
where so many springs came and went;
we stayed up many nights watching the flickering fireflies
in the many returning summers; we walked through numberless autumns
stepping on the heaps of fallen leaves; we wandered many winters aimlessly
in the snow covered fields;
while we went up and down
many rugged hills and rocky mountains
for more than five decades together,
and during those long and tiring years,
though the jar you are carrying bumped into not a few but many rocks and trees
by which the brim chipped off here and there and base gouged out all over,
you never think to change it for a new one.
you tripped on the stones
many times on the way of our journey,
you never spilled a drop of sun-ray
or, though sometimes it is bothersome,
you did not pour them on the ground.
However, look at me!
the knapsack I carry is beaten by
the untiring rains and winds
and torn to rags from ages of abuse,
and now, though I am an empty knapsack,
you did not abandon me but came with me,
sometimes you walked ahead and other times just following me.
I see sunlight you filled from the spring is overflowing
from that unseemly jar you are carrying;
in spring, buds and blooms of all sorts of flowers
in the field make me look back to verify your presence
and smile when I recognize you by me;
in summer, when we are lying on a tree trunk
under a shade for a moment of rest
a breath of air stops by us and tells a story
for the reason why we walk together;
in autumn, I learn the meaning of decay
through watching the leaves fall and roll
on the ground carried by a gust of wind,
nonetheless, you let me have a moment of appreciation,
you make my life worthwhile, with the flavor of fruit I bite.
Even if winter comes
unless you are not abandoning that jar,
as long as sunlight is overflowing from the jar,
though I am an empty knapsack,
I trust you that your thoughtful heart
will block the blowing wind,
your sagacity will turn snow into beautiful flowers.
Copyright © Su Ben | Year Posted 2015