Spring Simile Poems | Examples
These Spring Simile poems are examples of Simile poems about Spring. These are the best examples of Simile Spring poems written by international poets.
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:-
Poets without new rhymes
are poets without a Muse;
poets whose lines don't flow
are poets we cannot use.
Like artists who don't paint,
or minstrels who don't sing;
the world has no time or place
for poets so fruitless in the spring.
If rhymes were more plentiful
and lines were much more flourishing,
the earth at this time of year
would thrive, and be more nourishing.
A tree is like a blank book
that nature writes her seasons on
In Winter black branches woebegone
With snow and ice and brazen rook
A tree is like a blank book
Which spring soon paints in pink chiffon
As if at a signal — to act upon
Not one blossom will overlook
A tree is like a blank book
And summer the season of sweet bygone
And tongue in cheek, writes, green as a lawn
Cool tangle of leaves and meadowbrook.
A tree is like a blank book
Where autumn leaves warm tones adorn
In her golden shroud the year withdrawn
Until nature gives back all she took.
Comes spring abound-in'
With showy blossoms
Swinging to and fro
Waving in breezes
Like newborn puppies
Wagging happy tails
[I have no idea how to get a picture to accompany this here or how to install it. Sorry.]
SECOND PLACE WINNER
Written March 15, 2021
For "Tableau" Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
I long for thy truant inspiration,
O Muse! (I feel thine absence for too long.).
Restore to me the gift of creation
once more,—that I may sing a new, gay song.
Reappear soon to my great elation,
O Muse! For thou canst never do me wrong,
or be the cause of my dislocation:
upon thy return my distress won't prolong.
On thine arrival, this crippling disrepair
of my Parnassus shall give up its sway,
and the end of my creative despair
will arrive on this most auspicious day
(like spring that welcomes existence everywhere),
when this new sonnet comes to life this way.
As the quiet dew
wet blades of grass grew,
hungry rays of sunlight
slowly consumed
the last morsels of darkness
Faint echoes of the symphony
of frogs and crickets
waned in the distance
The staccato overture
of chirping red-breasted cardinals
announced the arrival
of the synchronized dawn
Leaves of ancient trees attested
nature’s physical rainbow
quantum leaping her celestial spectrum
to supreme expressions of exploding colors
canvassing the terrestrial plane:
True to symbiotic rhythms, all creation
coalesced into a Virginia spring morning.
what freaks of nature
they may seem to be—
tall trees—aerial
bark skeletons
of well-seasoned wood...
well-seasoned wood
piercing the skies...
casting weird shadows
across the terrain—
their statuesque stillness...a
poised assurance of the coming
spring resurrection: if only we too…
could stand in such blessed assurance.
come
goddess
muse of light…
in the sunrise of time
and the moon’s
glowing
bid me bleed
nourishing words
rhythmically flowing
like a sweet streaming
spring…
let me canvas
ecstatic images
exciting the senses
exploding
creative energy
enlightening minds…
The circadian rhythms of birth, death, and eternity,
Play on in the sunrise of time:
The dread of winter left you naked and bare;
Your bark skin, scale-like, and wrinkle knotted.
Then came the spring of life clothing you
With appetite foliage attracting nature's children
To your warm and nourishing bosom.
Now in the autumn of your life, you ape graying age
With rainbow-hued fronds hanging and dropping
Their Joseph Coat carpeting on Mother Earth's floor.
Creeping out from behind the clouds, old winter
Slowly reboard the cooling winds of change:
Firmly rooted, you proudly stand, arms swaying
To the circadian rhythms of the sunrise of time.
How often does your childhood memories
Haunt you? Deep asleep?
When you awake at dawn? Halfway through
The Rubicon of your daydreams?
In the thick of solitude, or just when
You wax nostalgic with your folks?
Do you hold happy ones so dear you wish to
Turn back the hands of time and relive them?
Do you remember them vividly
Or do they clog your memory like a fog?
How long do they fade into oblivion
Before they spring back again like a boomerang?
Do they keep lingering and floating
In your mind like a cloud, or do they
Steal away as quick as a flash of lightning?
Do the unpleasant ones stick to
Your mind like metal sticks to magnet
Or do they escape like grains of sand do
When squeezed tightly under a clenched fist?
Date written and posted: 01/18/2018
Today the faded sun
decided to take refuge
in its own created shade.
Taking advantage, clouds
rung themselves out
releasing the rain they had made;
The gentle breeze chose recess
rather than doing what it does best.
Even in the spring
nature sends her rain;
as in winter, we still complain.
Why can’t we just jump and shout;
nature’s tasks are vast and huge?
Let’s give her the day to run about
and have a bit of fun with her sun.
To A Spring Virginia Morning.
As the quiet dew
Wet blades of grass grew,
Hungry rays of sunlight
Slowly consumed
The last morsels of darkness;
Faint echoes of the symphony
Of frogs and crickets waned in the
Distance. The staccato overture
Of chirping, red breasted cardinals
Announced the arrival
Of the synchronized dawn;
Leaves of ancient trees attested
Nature’s physical rainbow
Quantum leaping her celestial spectrum
To supreme expressions: Exploding colors
Canvassing the terrestrial plane;
True to symbiotic rhythms, all creation coalesced:
Indeed, the spring Virginia morning is for lovers.
BLACK SWAN SINGING…LOVE
There is an itching in my heart
I cannot scratch---
A raging rash ravaging through
The depth of my soul
A burning fire in my spirit
I cannot control
A teasing urging of mind
Challenging the body to match;
As nature would have it
The winter of age has its season
That last for a while
Teaching the wisdom of her reason
Why spring comes with a smile:
Bringing vigor to the tree,
Moisture to the nest;
With her eau de vie---
Renewing old interest---
So when you hear the black swan singing
Its cooing song,
Know that love is about to run like a river
Meandering on;
Oh what a wonderful spring thing:
Arrows of silver for the golden quiver!
Crystalline waters
Spring of life,
Traverses newer paths,
Trace the flow of crystalline waters,
Waterfall,
inspires to meditate,
Serenity is immediate,
Stand at shore,
waters buzzing galore,
Furore engulfs agonising throes,
Sets new rhythm,
Tunes the heart beat perfect,
Thoughts flow constant to soulful enthral !
Written November 2nd, 2014
By Dr. Upma A. Sharma
For nette's Crystalline contest