Figurative Language 8

Over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair.

I found her dancing like a leaf
And singing like a bird.

Old heartbreaks are old wine.
Too new to pour is mine.

Death will wait until you come.

That night from a dingy hotel room,
I saw the moon, like a golden gong,
Redly loom
Across the lake;

My heart is a little painted poem.

I would wander with you to the ends of all creation.

The wet wind hums its colorless refrain;

Her beauty was a fiery dart.

It's fair to say that building the pyramids required a bit sweat.

The ivory teeth within the jaw
Rattled aloud, like dice.

I am glad for my heart whose gates apart
Are the entrance-place of wonders,

Lemonade and ice cream,
Sitting poolside on an endless summer day.

Starvation danced with me.

The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun!

But on this line alone, the poet has toiled a million years or more.

Your charms in harmless childhood lay like metals in a mine;

The black waves moaned and broke unutterably
On a stern cliff where hand in hand we stood.

The drops ran down as slow as fate.

Weeds climb about the stoop
And clutch the crumbling walls;
The drowsy grasses droop--
The night wind falls.