Growing Up Personification Poems | Examples
These Growing Up Personification poems are examples of poetry about Growing Up Personification. These are the best examples of Personification Growing Up poems written by international poets.
I am a dainty, colorful marigold.
Or at least that's the story I'm told.
I was born in a big, green, and grassy yard.
Growing up was awfully hard.
But now, my fiery orange petals are out,
And I can wave them all about.
I love to soak up that bright, yellow sun.
And being kissed by a delicate, winged butterfly is fun!
Sharing my food is a nice gesture of me.
My favorite companion is the buzzing bee.
I hope I live a long, healthy, and happy life,
With some children and a beautiful wife.
"A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast…" Proverbs 12:10 of the King James Bible
Belonging to where I’m loved warmly well
My best “dogistically” does excel
Since puppy times of varied joyous days
Fed and sufficed in my home-base, safe place.
Surviving apart from dear Mother
After forced abandonment of Father
Adopted was I with my three siblings…
Yet only I --- thrived --- by kindness’ enablings.
Living with my loving “fur-family”
I hear songs, praising God jubilantly
Beholding them pray secures my welfare
As they exercise genuine give and share.
Thankful to their sanitation routine
I feel clean and fresh with favored hygiene
Around my domestic environment
Satisfied with contentment-fulfillment.
Blest with wonders of blissful growing up
Here am I now, a healthy Mom, prepped-up
Nourishing own puppies, with gentle nurture
Assisted by gracious human nature.
June 26, 2022
2nd place, "Personification- Pets Talking" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France; judged on 7/1/2022.
Wondrous life, indeed miraculous
authored by the Creator
designed with sovereign plan
commences toward triumphant fulfillment...
through my mission as life-building shovel.
Babyhood beams with hope
as God's gift, "bundle of joy" so-called
fruit of love from mother’s womb
greets thankful family midst serenity bliss...
to thrive along my nurturing shovel's diligence.
Love-filled nourishing home prospers childhood
against growing up pains along mirth-filled adventures
bracing adolescence might of curiosity-driven pursuits
to optimize freedom-propelled exploits...
by my persistence as shovel of development.
Between sweet charm and bitter harm of choice
adulthood radiates grace to celebrate
upon service-impact and kindness-influence glow
sharing achievements of great blessings...
while my labour as harvester's shovel needs refurbishing.
As departure time comes
legacy is prayed-for to remain
verily endowed well, by the grace of the Lord
begetting another grand life...
with me witnessing jubilanty --- old shovel of service.
As I hung in silent slumber
Waiting for winters’ wonders
To desist and make haste
Most have gone and left this place.
As the ice and snow embrace my outer shell
The wiseman’s words did foretell
Of the grand plan my future holds
My uncertain circumstances will unfold
So I sit and remain
my mothers loving last refrain
Her ode of joyful splendor
She bestowed upon this lone pretender
As springs gentle breeze rocks me to and fro
Now I don’t have very long to go
I am gently freed from her loving care
Dropping to the ground as I fly through the air
My skin is shed and I’m able to grow
And fulfill the gift my new life will undergo
So.....the best I can tell
This is my story ...in a nutshell.
A Candle
To the soft touch of my breath
and stillness of the room
it cooly shivers
reaching high at times
to touch any other soft object
and lightly scorch it
The Burning Candle
I remember how my grandparents were when I was growing up. They behaved like every day was their last. They still held hands and touched every chance they had. They showed each other that they loved each other every day. They had a love that went beyond the stars. When my grandparents died they went to the stars to watch over me. Their love it a love I dreamed of when I was growing up. I gave up on that love until you walked in my life and I knew my grandparents sent you to me so I could find a love like theirs.
Summer times; and winter season:
Lovely time and everything happening,
Blue skies and warm mornings,
Beautiful trees and green grasses
Frozen lakes and dim appearances:
Nothing but fogs and mirages
Last month went fishing with my nephew
Last week went sailing with a few,
I guess nobody likes the oceans
Runner aways and out casts,
What a blue season:
Rainy forecast and mixed up emotions
Took days to settle;
And i was assisted by natives.
From wannabe to being sting by bees
Honeycombs and bee traps:
Sisters with beautiful garments but dreadful spirits,
No sweetness; no wine
Just dreamless-dreams,
O what happened to the mistresses!
Boys growing up
From summer to autumn:
The trees that once had its leaves;
Now how they departed,
Early growth but premature death
World war: man throwing tantrums!
A Powerful Tree I know
Outstanding in All its Growth
Great and Mighty Fortress
Overlaps and Grinds
Weighs Upon Greater Gazes
Surrender To No One
Shines Upon All My Troubles
Stands Firm on Sinking Grounds
Washes All the Past, and
Present Worries
What a Hero!
What a Friend!
This person I will Call
Is my One And Only Dad!
I am a cold, flat, black and white rectangle, rounded corners, no frills or curls.
No one could revere me more that thirteen-year-old higher thinking boys and girls,
Illustrious readers of U.F.O.’s, the paranormals, and E.S.P.
Ones who question their clari-normal selves, always seek out proof of life from me.
The absolute best environment ambiance for my most effective use is set up gypsy-like, cushy, and cozy.
Soft pillows, wavering candle making spooky shadows, smelling of lilac or equally wonderful well-loved posey.
The room should be relatively unlit, but you have to see my alphabet and numbers.
The hidden entities can make themselves known through whispers, or smells, not loudness or lumbers.
My beige heart-window pointer messages are often disjointed or a hundred percent totally misread.
Uh-oh. Here comes your mom. Everybody, move! Blow out the candle, and hide me quickly under the bed.
I may be a big deal at your pre-teen’s life’s point, but in your neck of the woods, parents see me and go immediately red.
I’m contraband, against their religion; except for Lazareth, they never want to know about the eager to be heard undead.
I am an African,
Not because of my colour skin,
Not because of my faith in Jesus Christ,
Not because of my education,
Not because of eating African,
Food day and night,
Not because I speak African languages.
I am an African,
Not because of my position.
Not because of my African surname.
Not because it is my birthplace,
Not because I married a beautiful,
African queen.
I am an African,
Because I love Africa,
Because I love Africans.
Because I have a vision to develop Africa,
Because I promote the African Union,
Because I contribute to open eyes of
Africans,
Because I teach Africans the history of glory
And dignity.
Because I am enlightening Africans mind and
Thoughts.
I am an African forever and ever.
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe Mussabwa Chris
The Honor of Love
Comes from within a soul at peace,
Its measure of balance is strengthened with increase.
Love bores its respect from honor,
And breeds that passion between loes valor.
The honor of love is the truth that leads,
A person with thought not lust's greeds.
For greed brings pain and sadness,
Just as sorrow comforts ones madness.
The honor of love makes a feeling strong,
Not faking its passion and teasing a wrong.
Just as one feels the respect love brings,
So shall that honor of love will forever sing..
Who am I?
And, why am I here?
The questions in my heart keep
multiplying from time to time
I thought my parents would
have an answer
But unfortunately, not even my
mum or dad have a clue.
I spoke to my grandpa, and he
asked me to look in the mirror.
So I ran back home to have a
good look of myself
But the me in the mirror only
stare in my face and mimic my
gestures.
Of course, I saw a reflection of
me in the mirror
But it never said a word of it
own.
In fact, staring at him for that
long made me feel dumb and
dumber.
So I ran back to tell grandpa a
piece of my mind
And on getting there, they said
grandpa is gone.
He left without telling me the
answer that I seek.
Now, I must keep on searching
until...
Or should I return to that
mirror and look a bit longer?
Written & Authored by:
Ebenezer O. Akinrinade
+2348027701092
http://gent2smile.blogspot.com
A puzzle piece you are to me
Like a vine without any leaves.
Your heart is pure your soul is
Gold, the sweetest thing I'll
ever hold! A miracle in my eyes
it seemed, knowing they said
no babies for me! Always a
surprise you seem to be just
like a puzzle piece! At 9 months
you walked but not until 4 did
you first talk! Always a terror
making a beautiful mess always
a surprise that has yet to be
met! The twists and turns I
know we will see will seem
somewhat like a roller coaster
to me! The milestones and
special gifts you bring will make
my life seem Like a dream, my
special boy I have always said
How special I knew not till
Aspergers they said! The
journey will be trying the
journey will seem long! But
with our family together we will
chug along! My special boy I
love you so and cannot wait to
see you mature and grow! Now
we have a goal we have our
dream you see to make you the
perfect fitting puzzle piece!!
Written by: Christina Kirks
McCullouch 04/05/2012 For
Jonathan S McCullouch Jr
Mommy loves you to eternity
and beyond! Forever and
always!
********
Do I see the thing's
In Love...
That I truly see
In You
Are You My Love
Could this dream'
Really be true
Poet Author
Gary Fields
**********
In My final resolution
I must...
First,
Go to meet God
Thus,
Perhaps'....
He is ready to
Receive
Me in all
Of My inequities'
That which I do present
Poet Author
Gary Fields