Personification Poems - Page 2

The Last Leaf On The Tree
- By David A. Berwick
- Published by Family Friend Poems January 2020 with permission of the Author.
It's about a leaf I saw hanging onto a tree in autumn/winter.

Seasons Changing From Fall To Winter

in Fall Poems

The last leaf on the tree, that's me.
Yes, look up high, that's me.
All my friends have been blown down.
They're waiting for me on the ground.

The last leaf on the tree, that's me.
Yes, look up high, that's me.
All my friends have been blown down.
They're waiting for me on the ground.

I started in the summer a lovely green.
But way up here I could not be seen.
Now in autumn I'm a lovely brown.
I feel like the only leaf around.

The wind and rain have tried their best.
Yet I'm not quite ready to join the rest.
Even Jack Frost tried little me to freeze.
Tough old me will not be brought to my knees.

Some lovely snow that fell at night
Made me heavy and gave me a fright.
Nature will soon make a call.
Soon I know I must make the fall.

So maybe tomorrow I'll make a leap,
And will all my friends on the ground I shall sleep.
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A Farewell
- By Alfred Tennyson
Famous Poem

Alfred Tennyson (1809 - 1892) was Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom. In this beautiful poem, Alfred Lord Tennyson compares the short life span of Man to the seemingly eternal lifespan of nature. He expresses a longing to live on for eternity. However, nature lives on forever, while humans live for but a short time. The rivulet moves on to becomes a river and then it merges in to the sea where it stays for eternity. Interestingly, a great poet's work lives on even after their death.

in Famous Death Poems

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow down, cold rivulet, to the sea,
Thy tribute wave deliver:
No more by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,
A rivulet then a river:
Nowhere by thee my steps shall be
For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree
And here thine aspen shiver;
And here by thee will hum the bee,
For ever and for ever.

A thousand suns will stream on thee,
A thousand moons will quiver;
But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.
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Glorious Spring
- By Shayan Das
- Published by Family Friend Poems April 2019 with permission of the Author.
Spring is known as the season of life. Nature gets back its color in this splendid season. Spring had been the heart of imagination for thousands of poets and artists since hundreds of years, and truly the exquisite beauty of spring has inspired me to write this short acrostic poem.

Spring Acrostic Poem

in Spring Poems

Sing the birds; the season has come.
Prettiest look nature does hold.
Rejoices the Earth, her color winsome.
Idyllic her beauty, pretty as gold.

Sing the birds; the season has come.
Prettiest look nature does hold.
Rejoices the Earth, her color winsome.
Idyllic her beauty, pretty as gold.
Nature does paint her parts in green.
Glorious the spring is, calm and serene.
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To Autumn
- By John Keats
Famous Poem

John Keats was a British Romantic Poem who only lived 25 short years, from 1795-1821. "To Autumn" is the final work in a group of poems that is referred to as Keats' 1819 Odes. He was inspired to write this poem after going on a walk on an autumn evening near Winchester. He wrote it on September 19, 1819, and it was published in 1820, a little more than a year before he succumbed to tuberculosis. The poem shows the progression through the autumn season, from fruitfulness, to labor, and ultimately to its decline. It also has a strong sense of imagery and uses personification.

in Famous Nature Poems

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
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Fog
- By Carl Sandburg
Famous Poem

“Fog” was part of Carl Sandburg’s first poetry collection, Chicago Poems, published in 1916. Sandburg wrote simply and was known to use the “language of the people.” This poem was no different. He used simple imagery, personification and a metaphor to compare fog to the movement of a cat. Sandburg was inspired to write this poem when he saw the fog roll in to the Chicago harbor.

in Famous Nature Poems

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

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My dear neighbor, Nellie, who is in her 80s, asked me, as I am an artist, to paint a picture for her to give to her husband for Christmas. She said he loves the poem "Here Comes the Fog" by...

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Spring's Way
- By Patricia L. Cisco
- Published by Family Friend Poems April 2018 with permission of the Author.
This short poem is in Haiku style and about the transformation of winter into spring. I think it explains the struggle of the transformation of winter's nature, of trying to hold on a little longer, while spring's nature of taking over always wins, giving way to the brand new life, new love, and the charm of spring! In just a few short lines spring always wins her way, dancing well into May and June! Many weddings are planned during these months because of the fairness and beauty of the spring weather.

Transformation Of The Seasons

in Spring Poems

Winter fights to stay.
Sweet Spring always wins her way.
Flowers bloomed today!

Winter fights to stay.
Sweet Spring always wins her way.
Flowers bloomed today!

Spring has final say,
Sending Winter on his way.
Her true love is May!

Spring's June wedding day.
White lily and rose bouquet.
Bells ring out today!
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My Wooded World
- By Sheila Visingardi
- Published by Family Friend Poems July 2006 with permission of the Author.
There's time for space and contemplation in the wooded world.
The poem makes use of personification to make the woods seem alive. The branches, wind and animals are given human characteristics like walking, singing, talking.
In loving memory of John H. Burns Sr. -my father

Poem About Escaping To The Woods

in Beauty of Nature Poems

Analysis of Form and Technique

As a child, I would sit and ponder
at the wooded areas, for their beauty relaxed me.
The sway of the branches and whistling of the winds,
as if they were calling my name.

As a child, I would sit and ponder
at the wooded areas, for their beauty relaxed me.
The sway of the branches and whistling of the winds,
as if they were calling my name.

Then as I grew older, they were my retreat,
for the woods became my own world,
a world full of imagination, creativity,
resourcefulness, as well as inspiration.

I loved my domain, for no problems were too great.
The woods protected me from everything.
The branches would open as to hold me.
The animals, in their busy ways, stopped to welcome me.

It was this place, my wooded world, that I lived for.
It is that place that beckons me now.
For it was only there, in them woods, I felt truly free,
as free as I would feel when your love would surround me.
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Sleepy
- By Abimbola T. Alabi
- Published by Family Friend Poems April 2018 with permission of the Author.
Sleep has always been a fascinating mystery to me. It's something I really appreciate. When I watch little children fall asleep, it's an appealing sight, so I decided to write a simple poem about it.

The Peculiar Nature Of Sleep

in Funny Poems for Kids

There is this funny guy I know.
Sleepy by name and sneaky as can be.
I never know where he comes from,
Only that he creeps up on me.

There is this funny guy I know.
Sleepy by name and sneaky as can be.
I never know where he comes from,
Only that he creeps up on me.

He is very cunning, you see.
He often makes me feel like a fool.
He jerks my head or slurs my speech,
And he sometimes makes me drool.

He can put things in a swirl
So I can't tell which is which.
And the stuff I don't want to let go,
He easily takes out of my reach.

Still, a generous guest is he,
Always comes with a soothing balm,
To lull my body and renew my strength
And make my mind to be calm.

When he leaves and where he goes,
That is hard for me to say.
But as rude as he is, I'm always glad
For Sleepy's sly visit every day.
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Dandelion
- By Nellie M. Garabrant
Famous Poem

Nellie M. Garabrant's "Dandelion" is a charmingly whimsical poem that personifies a dandelion throughout its life cycle. It begins with a playful description of the dandelion as a "dandy little fellow" in his golden prime, frolicking through the meadow. However, the poem takes a poignant turn as the dandelion ages, losing its vibrancy and becoming a "poor little baldhead dandy." The poem effectively captures the beauty and transience of life through the lens of a simple flower.

in Famous Children Poems

There's a dandy little fellow,
Who dresses all in yellow,
In yellow with an overcoat of green;
With his hair all crisp and curly,

There's a dandy little fellow,
Who dresses all in yellow,
In yellow with an overcoat of green;
With his hair all crisp and curly,
In the springtime bright and early
A-tripping o'er the meadow he is seen.
Through all the bright June weather,
Like a jolly little tramp,
He wanders o'er the hillside, down the road;
Around his yellow feather,
Thy gypsy fireflies camp;
His companions are the wood lark and the toad.

But at last this little fellow
Doffs his dainty coat of yellow,
And very feebly totters o'er the green;
For he very old is growing
And with hair all white and flowing,
A-nodding in the sunlight he is seen.
Oh, poor dandy, once so spandy,
Golden dancer on the lea!
Older growing, white hair flowing,
Poor little baldhead dandy now is he!
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Hurricane Isabella
- By Amy Aird
- Published by Family Friend Poems March 2013 with permission of the Author.
I was in the Air Force at the time, stationed at Langley AF Base. A large group of us were sent to Blacksmith, VA, an Army base, to stay clear of the impending hurricane. I am originally from the mid-west and have never been in that kind of weather, so I was a nervous wreck the whole time. During the storm that night, while others slept or watched movies on portable DVD players, I was so scared and the only thing that brought me comfort was to write about it. It took me 1 week to finish it.

in Earth Poems

Analysis of Form and Technique

I can't sleep tonight, I can still hear her name.
She came with warning but could not be tamed.
We packed our things and stored them tight,
And headed for shelter anticipating this night.

I can't sleep tonight, I can still hear her name.
She came with warning but could not be tamed.
We packed our things and stored them tight,
And headed for shelter anticipating this night.
"You will be out of harm's way," the Colonel told us. "Free from the fight."

But she followed us and now we are in her way.
All night she screams, "My name is Isabella and I've come to play!"
Her winds rattle the windows and shake our nerves.
The rain seeps through the cracks of the barracks we serve.
She keeps herself busy and at a steady pace.
Sounds like a freight train winning the race.

All through the night and into the early morning,
She kicked up her heals, laughing and roaring!
When the daylight came and the blue skies were calm,
We could only imagine the damage she had done.
It was far worse than what we had thought.

Age old trees that once reached to the sky,
Scattered the ground like tombstones, no longer alive.
Uprooted, twisted and mangled,
They crashed through houses and left power lines tangled.

Piles of debris littered the streets,
Trapping the flood waters up to our knees.
It covered the ground throughout this town.
Bits of valuables were later found.

But valuables can be replaced and homes can be repaired.
No one was hurt that day in the shelter we shared.
It could have been worse; we were luckier than some.
Some lost loved ones in the destruction she had done.

We go about our lives now, picking up the pieces,
Trying to make sense of the madness and all that it seizes.
Most are without power, their food supply goes sour,
As the day turns to blackness with each passing hour.

But throughout all the chaos brought strangers together.
Despite their own frustration came a need to take care of each other.
By helping one another with necessities we lack,
We see in each other one purpose, one path.
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A Blade Of Grass
- By Ruby Archer
Famous Poem

This poem employs personification to imbue a blade of grass with human-like qualities. The grass becomes a symbol of empathy and compassion. The poet contrasts the seemingly emotionless stream with the grass's ability to feel and respond to the water's implied sorrow. The poem explores the idea of empathetic projection, as the grass takes on the emotional burden of the stream.

in Famous Poems

A blade of grass is bending
Above the moaning stream,
In sympathy is blending
Where troubles only seem.

A blade of grass is bending
Above the moaning stream,
In sympathy is blending
Where troubles only seem.

The waters have no sorrow,
Real anguish ne'er can know;
And yet the grass will borrow
And bear the waters' woe.

It quivers with compassion
And quakes with foreign fears,
Then yields to loving passion,
And weeps the torrent's tears.
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21 - 31 of 31

Personification Poems - Page 2

It's about a leaf I saw hanging onto a tree in autumn/winter.

Spring is known as the season of life. Nature gets back its color in this splendid season. Spring had been the heart of imagination for thousands of poets and artists since hundreds of years, and truly the exquisite beauty of spring has inspired me to write this short acrostic poem.

There's time for space and contemplation in the wooded world. The poem makes use of personification to make the woods seem alive. The branches, wind and animals are given human characteristics like walking, singing, talking. In loving memory of John H. Burns Sr. -my father

Sleep has always been a fascinating mystery to me. It's something I really appreciate. When I watch little children fall asleep, it's an appealing sight, so I decided to write a simple poem about it.

There's time for space and contemplation in the wooded world.
The poem makes use of personification to make the woods seem alive. The branches, wind and animals are given human characteristics like walking, singing, talking.
In loving memory of John H. Burns Sr. -my father