Personification Poems | Personification Examples

POTD Tipping the light with curves arched and flowing with rain, she mounts her tinseled limbs on summertime's crest-- The trees, seeds, and flame in her eyes lightly open the fingertips of near August. Quick to beat on belly drums, her shadow trance melts the liquid stars in one tender rush... ...

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Tornado is an enraged volatile angry woman Joplin never saw her coming; until she was upon them Her path was a mile wide and twenty miles long Was she seeking revenge? Angry with all humans? We will never know, but she did unbelievable damage. Joplin, Missouri lost many lives that day. Four thousand homes were destroyed. I cannot fathom the horror of...

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Every word is a choice The notebook page is hungry She needs verbs Her blank page excites me Verbs are my favorites too I give her a teaspoonful of jumping, dancing, and twirling She gulps that down with gusto Gives me a nod I feed her a tablespoon of whirling, skipping and hopping Followed by a cup of adjectives I like her to have a...

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The storm sneaked into the valley She had no forethought of what she might do But the more she thought about the town And what they had done to her trees The angrier she became These morons had cut down almost every tree around her meadow There was no windbreak, so she figured they deserved an EF5 She came in quietly, just...

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I must allow..I am deeply impacted by the demenour, the Character" of Ink Empress." my expression i feel must be Expressed.' Or I would view myself.' As a most uncouth Inversion..' Of appreciation.? And of magnanimity..I would be without redress.' The most un-sufferable of fools' should I not make note of her calm And balance.' With great empathy.' Even much...

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Listen! This sentence's period - that's me. I'll just move one inch to my right, you see. ------>. Now, I trace a one-inch segment of a line. It's my one-dimensional redesign. Watch me trace my line segment down from there, producing what some folks might call a...

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The Earth opens her mouth, but only smoke escapes. No words—just the long exhale of something dying too slowly. She once spoke in green— a dialect of leaf and wing, of rivers fluent in direction. Now, her language is static and flame. We stitched motorways across her skin, called it progress. Drilled into her marrow, called it wealth. Even silence has texture— ask the glaciers, ask the bees. She...

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Initially seems like the distance of tip of the needle , gradually drawing miles in the middle . Leading to unnecessary battle , solving it can only settle . The two become quiet , one the eyes clues there's a...

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Initially seems like the distance of tip of the needle , gradually drawing miles in the middle . Leading to unnecessary battle , solving it can only settle . The two become quiet , one the eyes clues there's a...

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Proud lion stood against the wind Defying it to do its best The wind recognized the resoluteness of lion Admiring his strength and bravery Not the first element to acknowledge the power of lion...

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red tulip always wanted to be human wishing made it so she pranced out of the garden flaunting her new feet hated by others...

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The Earth, before she was Earth, was a quiet thought in the mind of a sleeping star. She dreamed herself into being— slowly, like moss inventing time, or like a sigh deciding to become wind. She did not begin with thunder. She began with loneliness. Molten, aching, raw—the way hearts are before language finds them. Her first lovers were chaos and gravity. She learned the...

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I'm infinitely more than just words on a blank paige I am... tenderness a beautiful art form a cry a scream a painter ...

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There’s a small committee in my brain, chaired by Regret and Vice-Chair Shame. They meet on Tuesdays, drink Earl Grey, and critique my past like a tragic play. There’s Memory #12 in a velvet vest, who insists on narrating when I try to rest. He rewinds my words in slow-motion tone, highlighting each “should’ve” I should’ve known. Memory #48 wears stilts and screams, turning...

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"Pretty clouds filled with water, then it rains down." By Poet I love to sit and watch the clouds, as they dance across the big blue sky. If I watch and wait what will I see, animals like a zoo walking by. One day I ask a big bright white cloud, where are you going? I was shocked when it answered back, off...

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