Space Personification Poems | Examples
These Space Personification poems are examples of Personification poems about Space. These are the best examples of Personification Space poems written by international poets.
A DOG'S LIFE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I reign as king in a sovereignty supreme.
I sit by your side gazing, the world whizzing by.
From a rolled down window, a kaleidoscope of colors mesmerize.
My ears flapping wildly, a joyful delight.
The rush of air, a thrill to my canine soul.
As we speed along, the highway our open road.
The engine purrs, a tranquil hum.
The sun beats down, a warm embrace.
The miles fly by, like autumn leaves dancing down a street.
I feel alive in this wild, open space.
The scent of freedom, a fragrance so sweet.
The thrill of adventure, a canine story to tell.
My tail wags freely, a happy beat.
The wind in my fur, a soothing caress.
Surely this canine has been blessed.
The sun begins to set, a fiery glow.
The stars appear, a twinkling show.
The engine slows, a gentle ease.
Our journey's come to an end.
I snuggle close, a contented sigh.
For it's a dog's life, and I am hypnotized.
Please be informed that I knock on everyone's door..
I will enter your home or space whether or not you
Open to me. Some of you will willingly allow me
To move in and live with you indefinitely.
The best and the strongest among you will
Acknowledge my reality but will never give me
A continual dwelling place.
My name is GRIFE.
The mighty wind buffets
And the trees cry bitter tears
I try to hang on to my limb
"Don't let go!"
shutting my eyes to the debris
I'm torn loose,
blown away
through the empty air
nothing to cling to
panic sparks as I'm rolled
over
and
over
pulled this way................................... then that
too much wide open space
I'm battered against something solid
breaking,
cru
mb
ling into dry pieces
I
fall
to
the
ground
into a mass grave
of mirror images. mirror images
mirror images. mirror images
I feel like I can go now,
I don't know that somehow,
It is just for the show,
The boat starts to row,
I began to go with the flow,
No matter if the tide is low,
It is what I reap and sow.
It is a sense of fashion,
It is still my passion,
There is nothing to mention,
I put on a lotion,
It is not a love potion,
I set myself into motion.
Torned pages turned into a papyrus tree,
Exciting fireworks set into a glee,
The spotlight hit the same place,
To save some private space,
What is it all about just to set me free?
The hind of salt and pepper,
The seasoning is proper,
I know it is a show-stopper,
I don't need a kitchen helper,
To set my meal on the table.
Let it be sunny,
Look, there is the bunny,
A pot of honey,
Pour into the glistening of willing,
I saw myself being silly.
• Look at the sun
• Can you see its face?
• It is staring at you
• All the way from outer space
A stretched gloaming tethers creation in a
daystar's wake ... askew parts The Old Guitarist
ebbing lambent stars strung to a yarn of spring ...
'Tis the volley of calendrical crasis
poised to a youthful Einstein that subtracts from
the sum and substance whence summer makes a splash ...
The advent of an enchanting star dulls a
chant that the Khanate only stains upon its
Golden Horde smolders beneath befriending clouds ...
A whiff that slights Aurelius' bearings yet
still trifles a chalk absence to the presence
of cheese that embellishes the languid tracing ...
The shallow space of bards decreed a crowning
flock of teary favoring san tissues of
lissome verdancy choral ode vibrant charms ...
Worshipped effervescent microscopic dew
bringing into being just one bell prayers
bearing fruits of promise in globule water ...
Petrichor emanates to a hoverance
wisp claim as wandering brevity stands still
amidst a sonder of souls ventured threshold ...
Gold beams glimpsed a bevy coup of a vast crest
as the dripping stalled in evaporating
stares chase a clinked rainbow flaunts with ... creation.
The 23rd Chapter found ...
? ... ... ... ! (huh?)
In their ending man destroyed their heaven and their earth.
And the earth being without form and void;
Presents its re'-membered nothingness back into the darkness of familiarities 'ere alienation out of the commonalities that are the countenance of deep space.
The Spiritual force ... "Do you hear and see, what the deaf and blind, had known." ~~~~~~~~> touch ...
... conceptual introvertism
8-12 Lines – Wind, Rain, Snow, Thunder or Sun – 3-22-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rains
Each season knows your names.
Vernal vixen splendor rides in misty cloud ships
Solstice downpour impregnates fertile blue fields
Your sheaves of rain call you autumnal,
Platinum queen, you dance the frozen fandango.
Your crystal pearls you drape on empty branches
And wrap the dawn and dusk in a silver scarf
As weathervanes spin in your tempest’s tantrums.
You creep across the sky disguised in wispy veils,
Tiptoeing into place, then open wide your space
The blazing daystar joins with you, teasing minx,
Conceiving rainbows.
Amid colorful roses, and lovely dahlias, within a garden,
I found my space in a corner, a wildflower bred by no one,
Though my mistress wished to uproot me as a weed, I was firmly grounded.
My roots so tangled didn’t come off easy, and I refused to budge an inch.
So, I was allowed to be there amid the other plants.
When she watered her garden, I absorbed some aqua molecules like a sponge.
When she manured her plants, I drew nourishment like a famished child.
When butterflies befriended lovely flowers, I stayed silent,
with a secret craving for an amorous moment.
When the season came, I burst into bloom, outshining all other flowers.
Yes, I am an Anemone resembling close to Poppy or Dogwood.
On my delicate stem, I am cradled by the lullaby of the wind.
Now I stay so confident, smile so easily, and laugh without care.
I can grow where I like, you cannot tame me, I am a wildflower…!
Within Eudaimonia's warm embrace,
Where virtues blossom, joy finds its space.
Theoria's gaze, a piercing ray,
Unveils hidden truths that guide our way.
On virtue's path, we strive to find,
A life of purpose, for heart and mind.
In contemplation's depths, we delve,
Seeking wisdom's light is a treasure to delve into.
Eudaimonia's song, a gentle hum,
Of flourishing souls, their goals are overcome.
Theoria whispers, secrets unfold,
Guiding hearts to truths, both brave and bold.
In virtue's dance, with wisdom's wings,
Eudaimonia and Theoria sing.
In yearning hearts, in minds set free,
A life of meaning, for eternity.
DANDYLION
I am a humble dandelion
(You see, I know my place)
I’m not up there with the roses,
I occupy a lower space.
To some I’m an unwanted weed,
At best an unwanted flower.
I’m not pruned with secateurs,
I’m hacked to death with a mower.
It’s your fault I get everywhere,
When all is said and done.
If you don’t want me in your lawn,
Don’t scatter my seed head for fun!
From cooing babe to the seasoned tongue,
I've tasted life, a vibrant song.
Sweetness on fire, bitter sting,
Each flavour etched, a fleeting spring.
A dancer dark, a muscle's art,
I weave a map within the heart.
Spicy heat and creamy bliss,
On this canvas, senses kiss.
But taste alone cannot convey,
The depths of meaning, day by day.
Words take flight, on feathered wings,
From poets' verse to everyday things.
A bridge of language, cultures meet,
In whispered secrets, voices sweet.
Misunderstood, I twist and turn,
A double-edged sword, lessons learned.
A silent plea, a lover's touch,
A playful tease, a mother's clutch.
Emotions bold, in stories, told,
I speak the heart, both young and old.
A fiery cry, a whisper-soft,
The tongue's true power rises aloft.
In silence, too, I find my space,
Where thoughts and feelings interlace.
So let me dance, this tireless tongue,
In the symphony of meaning, ever sung.
A taste, a touch, a word, a song,
The tongue's true power is forever strong.
In realms where clocks dissolve like mist,
And galaxies pirouette on strings,
My dreams take flight, a kaleidoscope kissed,
By stardust whispers, lunar flings.
Through meadows painted with lunar light,
I chase the shadows of fireflies,
Their wings are like constellations, bright,
Leading me through cosmic skies.
On rivers spun from nebulae,
I sail in boats of moonlit bone,
Past planets sculpted from reverie,
Where echoes of forgotten songs are sown.
With trees that bloom in stardust showers,
And leaves that sing in comet's fire,
I climb the stairs to Stolen Hours,
Where time itself becomes a liar.
In whispering caves of amethyst,
Where dreams like sleeping dragons lie,
I steal a kiss from the shadows,
And watch the stars paint sunrise on the sky.
So let me dance in time's embrace,
Where logic crumbles, reason sleeps,
In dreams that paint a surreal space,
Where every secret softly weeps.
For in this world of moonlit rhyme,
Where shadows whisper, stars ignite,
My soul takes flight, transcends the chime,
And dreams become the purest light.
I'm silk-fire, curled in emblazoned quartz horizons,
Of aurous equator, rising in smoke as a secular bird,
From own fossil-ashes, flying to distant honey-shores, scarlet spun,
Stretching across merlot crusts of earth, like a coal-storm, sobered
Yet, my heart is not a silent sandstone, flaming with rage,
It whispers to my Mon Cherie, my arctic air,
In dialects of redolent romance, midst ethers of space,
And he, who fuels my glory by igniting spirit, emerges in graphite flares
Our skies are not sketched with rose-gold glitters,
Rushing in a black-horse's symphony,
crashing porcelain herbs,
We paint universe in ruins of lead and metallic cinders,
Me and arctic air, breathe as one in thunderous heartbeats of reverb;
Orbiting in jade bonfires of ornamented redwood,
While cradling wrath in crimson vineyards,
Has any nurtured offspring of starburst hope withstood,
If our eclipsed union is a toxic twinkle upon sacred lotus' haven-yarns?
Existence is the cauldron where elements brew
Earth, water, fire and air, are in space entwined
Each has unique attributes, maintaining life
Cognised by presence when they are aligned
Holy Spirit grazes form, beginning at root of spine
Earth comes alive, as blood begins to flow
Two thirds of the planet is water; we are likewise
We feel in stillness, our sacral water centre glow
Energy ascent continues, igniting fire in the navel
So enlivening and comforting is magnetic heat
But what avail the spark, if there be no movement
Breeze of air obliges, making our heart upbeat
Thus from root to sacral, navel and then our heart
Grace activates all elements and body glands
Passing through throat corresponding to aether
Into the head ovoid to cognise God’s heavenly lands
Ancient Hermitic wisdom affirms: as above, so below
Made in God’s image, we represent the whole
Five senses, elements and electricities as yet unknown
Oh hermit, we ourselves are the light, scriptures extol