Similes and Metaphors
Poems with Similes
Summer is as hot
as a cauldron
with boiling water.
-Amy Johnson
Poems with Similes
Hurricanes are as
Destructive and angry
As a mother tiger
When it’s lost its baby.
-Michael Mariani
Poems with Similes
Spring Snow
Snowflakes
Slip from the sky
Like soft white butterflies,
Brush the trees with their flimsy wings,
Vanish.
-John Foster
Poems with Similes
Safety Pin
Closed, it sleeps
On its side
Quietly,
The silver
Image
Of some
Small fish;
Opened, it snaps
Its tail out
Like a thin
Shrimp, and looks
At the sharp
Point with a
Surprised eye.
-Valerie Worth
Poems with Similes
My Noisy Brother
My brother’s such a noisy kid,
when he eats soup he slurps.
When he drinks milk he gargles.
And after meals he burps.
He cracks his knuckles when he’s bored.
He whistles when he walks.
He snaps his fingers when he sings,
and when he’s mad he squawks.
At night my brother snores so loud
it sounds just like a riot.
Even when he sleeps
my noisy brother isn’t quiet.
-Bruce Lansky
Poems with Metaphors
School is a station
where little children go
to become little engineers
to guide the world.
-Ashley Shields
Poems with Metaphors
School is a mind factory
with brain teasers.
-Stephanie Jones
Poems with Metaphors
Winter Morning
Winter is the king of showmen,
Turning tree stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over lakes.
Smooth and clean and frosty white,
The world looks good enough to bite.
That’s the season to be young,
Catching snowflakes on your tongue.
Snow is snowy when it’s snowing,
I’m sorry it’s slushy when it’s going.
-Ogden Nash
Poems with Metaphors
Black Is a Shadow
Black is a shadow,
Black is the darkness
That you can’t handle.
Black is a dog.
Black is a darkness
Inside a log.
Black is the night
Because there’s no light.
Black is a scary thing.
-Alex Slaught
Simile and Metaphor Practice
Gussie’s Greasy Spoon
Every day, at ten past noon,
I enter GUSSIE’S GREASY SPOON,
I plop down in the nearest seat,
and order food unfit to eat.
I try the juice, it’s warm and vile,
the scrambled eggs are green as bile,
the beets are blue, the beans are gray,
the cauliflower tastes like clay.
Simile and Metaphor Practice
At GUSSIE’S GREASY SPOON, the stew
is part cement, part hay, part glue,
it’s mostly gristle, ropy tough,
a tiger couldn’t chew the stuff.
The rancid soup is foul and thin,
a bit like bitter medicine,
the melon smells, the salad sags,
the mashed potatoes seem like rags.
Simile and Metaphor Practice
One whiff of Gussie’s weird cuisine
makes stomachs ache, turns faces green,
her moldy muffins have no peers,
they’ll make you sick for forty years.
The coffee’s cold, the cake is stale,
the doughnuts taste like pickled whale,
yet, every day, at ten past noon,
I eat at GUSSIE’S GREASY SPOON.
- Jack Prelutsky