Figurative Language in Poetry

#1. Pool Party (by Natasha Niemi) Squeal! Kids are running everywhere. Running and Splash – Falling in the pool. The music plays – Stomp! Stomp! The children dance. Finally, the food is off the grill- Munch, munch, munch!

#2. Tranquility Time slides a gentle ocean waves upon waves, washing the shore, loving the shore.

#3. Games (by Sharon Hendricks) Chipmunks chatter and scurry, Blue jays scream and scold. Robins talk and gossip demanding their story to be told. Squirrels skip and box one another and rabbits play hop scotch. The games they play, the sounds they make Really are top notch.

#4. Squirmy Worm (by Alan Loren) A squirmy little worm, As I was on my break Crawled right up my left leg Like some slithery little snake His skin was rather moist As a man with too much gel That creepy little worm He really made me yell. And so I lost my temper Like a lion without prey, Until a kindly co-worker Shooed that worm away

#5. Shining Fruits From A Solid Tree (by Robert J. Lindley) As I rest on this high mountaintop blessings come, they never stop All my family are blessings to me shining fruits from a solid tree The clouds parting early each dawn sunshine on flowers on the lawn Looking closer I am content to see smooth waves upon my family sea

#6. Thanksgiving (by Sharon Hendricks) A mountain of baby carrots, a turkey the size of a cow. a river full of gravy a dog that says meow Every pie known to man and gallons full of ice cream. By the time my dinner is over I surely won’t be lean.

#7. The Game (by Natasha Niemi) Clap. Clap. Stomp. Stomp. Swish. Swish #7. The Game (by Natasha Niemi) Clap! Clap! Stomp! Stomp! Swish! Swish! This is the way we get through Our games. The crowd shouts, ”Yahoo!” The ball soars through the air. Then, bounce, bounce, bounce. The audience holds its breath. SWISH! The ball goes in; We win!

Amidst the frozen white, the messenger of spring. #8. Joy Just when you thought that winter would be here forever, that it could never end, you saw:   Amidst the frozen white, a tiny tip of green, first blade of grass, the messenger of spring.

#9. Nature's Chorus (by Sharon Hendricks) Willows bend to their partners while the spruces curtsey in response. Cherry trees form a circle and the oaks dance just like debutantes of woodpeckers tapping on their trunks and squirrels chattering in the boughs. Listen to the sounds of nature’s chorus What fun it does arouse!

#10. Birds (by Natasha Niemi) Chirping non-stop, like a machine in the trees, Building their nest like little worker bees. They sing their songs, like chatter-boxes. As regular as alarm clocks, Waking people up each day. They are silent at night, Like snakes advancing on prey.

#11. Appetite (by Sharon Hendricks) In a house the size of a postage stamp lived a man as big as a barge. His mouth could drink the entire river You could say it was rather large For dinner he would eat a trillion beans And a silo full of grain, Washed it down with a tanker of milk As if he were a drain.

#12. Camping (by Natasha Niemi) Crack! Crack! The fire crackles under the stars. Sizzle! Sizzle! The water sizzles above the fire. Crunch! Crunch! The campers crunching on potato chips. Click! Clack! Click! Clack! The tent poles clicking and clacking together. Rustle! Rustle! As we prepare our sleeping bags to go to sleep. Chirp! Chirp! The crickets say, “good-night”.

#13. Dinnertime Chorus (by Sharon Hendricks) The teapot sang as the water boiled The ice cubes cackled in their glass the teacups chattered to one another. While the chairs were passing gas The gravy gurgled merrily As the oil danced in a pan. Oh my dinnertime chorus What a lovely, lovely clan!

monster of destruction, and sends them spinning, #14. Peace   The wind is now a roaring, smashing monster of destruction, raking all man's work from the valleys, from the vales, and sends them spinning, broken flying - but all of that is not its core, its center is in truth eternal stillness bright blue skies and all you hear are gentle whispers far away and unimportant.

#15. Turkey In A Truss (by Alan Loren) Like a tumbleweed a tumblin’ Aimlessly through town I journey through my life In search of firmer ground. My soul seeks out adventure Like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn, but just the same it yearns for home, A place to settle in. I’m really not too picky Nor prone to make a fuss But sometimes I just feel like a turkey in a truss

#16. Summertime is Here (by Sharon Hendricks) My tongue is a piece of sandpaper I’m dissolving into a puddle. I want to dive into a snowdrift Though I’m sure that would befuddle Open me up, my organs are cooked I think I’m now well done. You can fry an egg upon my brow As I melt away in the sun!

It moves and it is dancing. #17. Creativity   On the wall, there is a shadow of a branch outside. It moves and it is dancing. It writes its story and the ink is living light.

#18. Excerpt from “As You Like It” (by William Shakespeare) All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances; And one man in his time plays many parts

#19. My Dog (by Sharon Hendricks) His bark breaks the sound barrier His nose is as cold as an ice box. A wag of his tail causes hurricanes His jumping causes falling rocks. He eats a mountain of dog food And drinks a water fall dry. But though he breaks the bank He’s the apple of my eye.

#20. The Gastronomic Gym (by Sharon Hendricks) Pasta twirling and spinning, peas do vertical jumps mashed potatoes swimming. meat doing bench press and pumps. Food has begun to exercise but it’s not in any gym. My brother said its happening right inside of him.

#21. Ah Sunflower (by William Blake) Ah Sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime Where the traveler’s journey is done

#22. Stars (by Natasha Niemi) They are like flashlights in the night sky; God’s little helpers guiding us on our journeys. Stars are as bright as a lighthouse on an icy, ocean night; they are like guardians committed to bringing you home.

#23. Daddy (by John Anderson) "Stars and Stripes march to their grave, A line of heroes with guns steady. The mother holds up a picture, 'Who's this?' Baby's first word is "Daddy."