Similes and Metaphors.

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Presentation transcript:

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

School is a mind factory with brain teasers. -Stephanie Jones 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