Some metaphors written by students in a Year Ten English class....
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other
sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a
bowling ball wouldn't.
McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag
filled with vegetable soup.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you
fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across
the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one
having left Sydney at 6:36 PM traveling west at 55 kph, the other
from Adelaide at 4:19 PM traveling east at a speed of 35 kph.
Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only
one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan
just might work.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but
a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land
mine or something.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes
just before it throws up.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg
behind her, like a dog at a lamppost.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was
room-temperature beef.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other
sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a
bowling ball wouldn't.
McMurphy fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a paper bag
filled with vegetable soup.
Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you
fry them in hot grease.
Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across
the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one
having left Sydney at 6:36 PM traveling west at 55 kph, the other
from Adelaide at 4:19 PM traveling east at a speed of 35 kph.
Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only
one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.
The plan was simple, like my brother Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan
just might work.
He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck either, but
a real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land
mine or something.
She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes
just before it throws up.
The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg
behind her, like a dog at a lamppost.
She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was
room-temperature beef.
She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall.
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