Poem about simile. You can read the best simile poems. Browse through all simile poems.
13.! ! Metaphors, Similes and stuff - Pooh Bear Explains
Christopher Robin and Pooh walked slowly down the path in the woods, treading on the occasional crackly twig.
'CR...' said Pooh, 'What's a Poeh Tree? Is it the same as a Poem, or a hum? '
'Well, Pooh, the very very best Poeh Tree in the world is your own:
'Isn't it funny
how bears like hunny?
It's what I call rum-ti-tum-itry. Everyone likes rum-ti-tum-itry. Even grown-ups. Rum-ti-tum-itry is friendly. Rum-ti-tum-itry is like two friends walking together. Like you and me, Pooh. Which makes you the very best rum-ti-tum-iter in the world...'
'That's tum as in...? ' asked the Very Stout Bear, cautiously.
'As in a Hum' said Christopher Robin. 'But then there's other things in Poetry such as Truth, and Other People Reading It And Nodding. And Similes. And Metaphors. There's a lot in Poetry.'
'What's a Simile, CR? ' asked Pooh. It sounded like what bees said just before they landed on something, like a hunny jar, or Pooh's nose.
'It's when you say something is like something else, to help people imagine it.' said CR.
Pooh had a Think. A Pondery sort of Think.
'Like perhaps - 'happiness is like hunny'? ' asked Pooh tentatively. He suddenly felt very five-to-four-ish at this Thought.
'That's exactly it, Pooh' said Christopher Robin happily. 'Or even sometimes the other way around! '
Pooh felt warm inside - almost like after eating honey - knowing now that a Simile wasn't a threat any more. 'What's a Metaphor, CR? '
'That's rather more difficult, Pooh. It's when you say something is something else, and people know what you mean somehow, and say 'Aha! ' and nod their heads...
Pooh had a longer, Pondery sort of Think.
'Like... teatime means honey? ' he offered hesitantly. Though he knew this was Truth and Other People Nodding, anyway.
'Something like that' said Christopher Robin. 'And then...' he said carefully, in case it was a bit too much for Beloved Bear for one day, but wanting to tell him all the same, 'there's the Extended Metaphor - which I think you might like, Pooh...' (he said hastily In Case) - 'like in a poem by Rupert Brooke, where he says 'Is there hunny still for tea? ' but what he really means is, he's a long way from home and can't get back in time for tea, and feels rather sorry about it...'
'I see...' said Pooh, thoughtfully - like people do who Don't Quite, but like to be polite...
Pooh decided there and then that the Poeh Tree was worth finding, now that he knew three things about it or was it four? It called for an Expedishun.
'Can you talk Poeh Tree, CR? Is it like what we are talking now?
'I think that's called a Prose Poem, Pooh' said Christopher Robin.
It was getting near to what Metaphoric Poets like Edward Bear call Time for a Little Something. Christopher Robin and Pooh turned and walked back slowly, the silence broken now and then by a crackly twig just waiting to be trodden on.
Pooh held Christopher's hand tight, as he was doing a lot of Poetic Thinking. He was wondering how anyone could be so far away from home that they couldn't get back home for tea. And worse, not knowing whether there was hunny in the cupboard or not...
But then he had a little five-to-fourish Hum, when he remembered that there was indeed hunny still for tea...
'Rupert Brooke at ten to three
knew he wouldn't get home for tea;
but now it's nearly five to four;
time for tea and Something More.'
Poetic Bears, you see, know all about Metaphor. read more »
Slouching beside my parents
A shabby shriveled bloke
Wrapped himself in a rug worn
Laden with a bulky bag torn read more »
15.Spinaci Verdi Fritti — [ 'Fried Green Spinach' ]
('Regno, Phylum, Classe, Ordine, Famiglia, Genere, Specie')
A piedi nella boscaglia, nel tardo pomeriggio: tortuosi percorsi di
Primavera fra Plantae et Animalia. read more »
16.' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' DEATH BY SIMILIE & METAPHOR
was like a tsunami
such read more »
17.A Message To My New-found Friend, Continued...
, , , and I love you
for what I don’t see of you
your voice through written word
though not a syllable spoken, heard read more »
18.Astrophel and Stella: III
ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: III
Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine,
That, bravely mask'd, their fancies may be told;
Or, Pindar's apes, flaunt they in phrases fine, read more »
19.Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The
On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;
Could I describe her shape and mein;
Our lasses a' she far excels, read more »
20.0003 Similes, Metaphors and stuff (2)
Isn’t it strange, this thing called
Poetry – and even stranger, these things
called similes and metaphors, which are
the very essence of what poetry read more »
21.0004 The world has lost the ear for rhyme
The world has lost the ear for rhyme.
It still makes children squirm with pleasure;
and from some witty pens and minds, its fireworks fizz;
so, after all these centuries of rhyme read more »
22.An Epistle To Robert Lloyd, Esq.
'Tis not that I design to rob
Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob,--
For thou art born sole heir and single read more »
23.! The poems I love
There are poems that I envy,
poems that I admire and respect,
poems that simply sing to me,
poems that I puzzle over… read more »
24.Every Moment I Live With You
Every moment i live with an eternal flame that adorns my soul with ineffable bliss, The apex enchantment for a mortal man.
Every moment I hear rhapsodic undulations of her omnipotent voice. infallible arrows of her emphatic prattle pierce my soul millions of time. Her subtle voice still dwells deep down I swear. read more »
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- carpe diem