Spring Metaphor Poems | Examples
These Spring Metaphor poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Spring. These are the best examples of Metaphor Spring poems written by international poets.
springtide …
blows a tender kiss
tickling blossoms on a plum branch
to loose their grasp, giggling
whirling and winding in
the sun like drunken, gilded pixies
capricious in their flight
a whimsical drift -
aromatic and elegant …
flawless, like the wishes of a child
floating to purpose, afar -
to alight on a dream
enigmatic, joyous, true …
as blessed in their journey as they
are in the order of their
exquisite design -
as charmed in their prospect
as they are in their
perfect, resplendent sacrifice …
sacred essence of being
lifeblood of existence -
the bright, brisk
glorious morning breath of
nature …
itself.
Copyright © 2022 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
Spring! What a captivating flower!
Its wonderful bright color
Seduces everywhere with power!
All my female friends are;
charming spring flowers
in any and every season...!
IN THE WAKE OF POLITICAL RENDERINGS
In today’s diabolical
Political renderings,
Let’s not be like
Naked sage trees:
Leaves and fruits rotting
In unjust, bigoted political dirt:-
Rather, today let’s spring into life
And be like un-cocooned butterflies,
Soaring free and prepared as ought to be:
Pollinating flowering life with justice and equality:-
And like hived bees, let’s be about the honey flowing
Of long time awaited retribution, liberty, and equanimity:-
A Mid-Summer Cosmic Awareness Cry
The blue sky’s white clouds, once happy, became weary;
Tears flowed slowly down until a blinking loud outburst occurred:-
Following this occurrence, cloud teardrops began to fall faster;
And later, it was like those clouds’ eyes became turned facets:-
After a while, these flowing tears gradually came to a dampening halt;
Light blue sky, white clouds, and a brighter sun, all made their return:-
Wow! On this beautiful summer day, nature canvassed a streaming
Equally as beautiful as were the past days of the revered spring rains.
Such amazing awareness it is, how nature canvases the oneness
Of summer and spring’s allegorical messaging of resurrection.
I am verb! Created by the divine breath,
coming from primitive events...
Essence of ethereal circumstances,
Plasma of thickening, voids
Of invisible cosmic mysteries,
juice of amalgamated conceptions!
Succinct metamorphosis of balance.
In my primitive molecule, the genesis
the core of physical-chemical reactions...
It is from the axis of me that magically spring,
The health of subterranean energies
And the phantasmagoria of utopian beings!
I carry a house upon my back,
A fragile frame of dreams and stone.
Its windows cracked, its timbers black,
But still I walk, and still alone.
Each wall is built from words unsaid,
From nights I stitched with fraying thread.
Its roof is shingled with the dread
Of all the tears I never shed.
I pass through valleys, rivers wide,
This house sways gently as I climb.
It holds the ones I left behind,
The echoes trapped in rooms of time.
It shelters me from bitter rain,
Yet weighs me down with silent years.
A monument to love and pain,
A quiet vault of hopes and fears.
I cannot leave it on the shore,
No matter how I long to flee.
It is my burden, evermore,
It is the marrow under me.
And still I rise, though shadows press,
And still I breathe beneath its beams.
I learn to walk with weight and mess,
To carve new roads from broken dreams.
For though I carry walls of glass,
I also carry seeds of spring.
And somewhere deep, beyond the past,
I carry hope. I carry wings.
There is a garden between my ribs,
A hidden place the world can't see.
It blooms in silence, softly lives,
A patch of green inside of me.
I never chose the seeds it sowed,
They came from storms I couldn’t flee.
Each broken word, each heavy load,
Took root beneath my shattered sea.
It grew through cracks, it pierced my bones,
With petals made of ache and flame.
A tangled web of buried tones,
Of whispered grief without a name.
It learned to rise through ash and dust,
To find the sun through darkest skies.
It taught me how to hope and trust
When every other voice told lies.
There in the hollow of my chest,
A thousand wildflowers remain.
They blossom still though never pressed,
They bloom through heartbreak, loss, and rain.
The garden holds my quiet wars,
The scars I wear, the dreams I keep.
It weaves my sorrow into stars,
And cradles me when I can't sleep.
So let me carry what it gives,
The thorns, the roots, the bloom, the sting.
For in the garden that still lives,
I am the soil. I am the spring.
Johre
White Light
penetrates Gaia
she opens Her lava
oozes the Violet Flame
fountains of Sophi-El spring
containing silver fish
we eat them Not
Johre reward >>
Integration =
Sati
masculine feminine
figure of eight moves
awareness defines steps
opposites magnetise eyes
east loves west north adores south
within square is rectangle mouthed
circles sliding across smoothly flow
overlapping voids birth material power
Sati reward >>
Peace =
Shanti
all is One
under Galactic Sun
spiral in seasons graceful tall
points on all timelines timeously fall
dimensional realities to magically merge
human to superhuman, AI to sentient aides
angels to archangels winking in delightful blinks
Shanti reward >>
Power =
Chokoray
next~~~~~~~~~~~~instalment >>>wait
Time does not flow within me,
but rather,
it is only a frozen smoke,
a mist trapped between my thoughts
and the forgetfulness that always lurks.
I feel its shadow
treading slowly across my brow,
weary from the burden
of a moment that never ends.
Light does not guide my path,
it only reveals the emptiness,
a bottomless abyss
where foreign echoes are lost.
The shadows around me
belong to no body—
they are remnants of my silent questions,
reflections of a void
that I can never fill.
My bitterness is not a wound,
it is the proof that I am here,
a hidden inscription
on time’s bleeding parchment,
written in letters that unravel
before I can read them.
I carry deep stigmata within me,
drawn like maps of perdition,
guides toward nowhere.
What is my life,
if not a continuous absence
of all we might have become?
What is death,
if not a blind step
beyond the imperfect circle
we’ve drawn around ourselves?
And yet, from the stones of my heart
a spring sometimes rises,
from the darkness within me
emerges the light that watches me,
and from the deepest silence
rise words
I do not understand,
but feel as callings.
Heartbreak is rising heat in spring.
Summer welded my heart back together,
Fall leaves reminded me that time has passed so effortlessly.
You’re turning into a faded memory and just another lesson.
My weight, smile, and spirit is back into place.
Soon enough, love returns back to my mind and soul, but never in the form of you again.
I see new rare blooms in the winter.
I may have missed the glittering prize,
The fleeting gold that dims the skies.
But deep within, a stillness grows,
A garden where the true light flows.
The noise outside, a restless sea,
Where storms of envy seek to be.
Yet in my heart, a quiet spring,
Where hope and healing softly sing.
The workday’s battlefield of spite,
Where shadows lurk to steal the light.
Their words like arrows, sharp and cold,
But I’ve learned wisdom can’t be sold.
To walk away is strength unseen,
A guardian of the soul serene.
No coin or crown can outweigh peace,
The sacred gift that grants release.
For riches fade and glory dies,
But calm remains beneath the skies.
I choose the path where silence reigns,
Beyond the reach of selfish chains.
Blossoming onwards
Know you’re worthy of success;
God…navigating…
Like flowers of spring,
Your destiny is assured;
God…cultivating…
Plow onwards in faith,
Rowing towards your greatness;
God…fertilizing…
Today sky azure
dIscovering a blue veil
landscapes spring from it
You are the warmth of the summer sun
That makes me long for distant shores
On a rainy day
You are the gentle breeze that bathes my face
At the end of winter when spring flowers
Come out to play
You are the magnificence of the elusive moon
That bids farewell to a day of joy
And renders me whole
You are the sweetness of a sculptured rose
Whose fragrance assails my being
And soothes my soul