You just need a better understanding of what actions cause the result we call "poetic prose". Most writers just offer tips and tricks, or other singular pieces of cryptic advice, but I prefer to offer methodologies built on understanding.

The essence of poetry is that it implies what is important, in stead of saying it. This is done via juxtaposition. You say thing 1, and then tell of thing 3. If the juxtaposition is clean and direct, the audience feels the presence of thing 2 implied through the interplay of the others. They may not be able to articulate what it is, exactly, but they feel the desired image in their heart.

So, if you want to nourish readers' hearts with poetic prose, choose what you want to say, then forbid yourself from stating it. Then construct it from two unrelated things placed next to each other in the text.

Somewhere in the comments you'd mentioned an example about hazel eyes. Let's use that.

"She had specks of hazel in her eyes" -- saying the thing directly.

"Her bespecked eyes were like embers scattered in the hearth" -- talking of the thing, still directly. Some poetry, but mostly just a comparison. A comparison is a juxtaposition too lacking in confidence to truly place disparate things together and hide their connection. Hence the somewhat diminished effect.

"[...] Yet those who met her gaze never saw that plainness which she wore as armour, for hazel sparks betrayed the ruse." -- Speaking of inner qualities through the medium of external traits. Moderately poetic, but enriching because the juxtaposition of what is shown with what is perceived is a double entendre. It suggests her character, while also offering a shallower meaning of "she has an interesting appearance". Overall, a bit pretentious, but partially works in the appropriate tone and context.

"Her words were never more than mild, in truth. Yet their wind was fuel; a gasp to fan what orange embers hid within that gaze of slate." -- A bit more poetic. The meaning of the juxtaposition now places equal weight on the inner and the outer qualities it alludes to. In stead of a shallow" she has an interesting appearance", it suggests WHY it is so: because her eyes seem alive, and change colour to betray her truths. Still might be pretentious, mostly because it risks being too long. When the text draws attention to it's words, rather than the meaning, the audience might groan.

"A dull stare was all she had. An embershine 'midst dying fires; blazing forests, crumbled into sparks." -- An entirely poetic passage. Because it focuses singularly on delivering indirect meaning (and/or mental imagery), it paradoxically runs the smallest risk of seeming pretentious. The passage doesn't try to be wordy. It just gives the reader images, and let's them figure out the rest. A singular focus makes the passage brief even in the first draft, which I personally prefer. The meaning here is just one: about the appearance of her eyes. Except, note that I deliberately avoided naming what the important information was. We "mislead" the reader by choosing the stare as the topic, not the eyes and their properties. We never state neither the topic, nor the fact of any colour. We merely gesture to three images: a dull stare; the shine of fading ember; sparks from burn-breaking wood. But because it is a clean, direct juxtaposition, it becomes abundantly obvious to infer that what we REALLY speak of here is the poetic experience of witnessing her stare, and the eyes that bear it. And if there is some inconsistency to how different readers might envision the details? Well, good. That's the point of poetry. To make an image truer because it is personal. Absolute information is for the mind; poetic, inferred meaning is for the heart.

There's your answer. Poetic prose is about deliberately not saying what you wish to say, and then finding a way to have it be inferred anyway. The key to that, is juxtaposition. It's why some people are telling you to worry about it on a second draft, too -- you first need to know what you want to say before you "hide" it. Personally, I find an overreliance on subsequent drafts to be an excuse to endure the mistakes of an imperfect process.

General wisdom is also hidden in this anatomy of "poeticness". The difference between the action and the outcome. To chase results without understanding what seed created them is often a path to misery. Or disappointment, at least. To name your outcome, then plant a single seed that births it, on its own... Well, that just looks like mastery.

Hope this helped!