A Snatch Of Spring Poem by Jude Fuhnwi
A Snatch Of Spring
When knees and heads went down,
All they asked Him was for their own
Even in faith, the pair was downtrodden
And phew! Yahweh shifted the burden.
On the rising sun's back was Melody
And all the hurt was now buried in rhapsody
If she were a flower, call her a primrose
Say it was springtime, if writing modern prose.
A quiet April morning hath come!
Her cry was full of life,
Everyone loved her,
Her own existence was highlife,
They were all over her,
She was flourishing at nine,
Full of smiles and fine lines.
Her dream to touch the skyline
Drifted her parents to cloud nine.
Little Melody was in chase of that dream,
In a classroom figuring what future she'll bring,
When bullets shifted her dream to a scream,
And all that crumbled; a snatch of Spring.
Little Melody was in chase of that dream, In a classroom figuring what future she'll bring, When bullets shifted her dream to a scream, And all that crumbled; a of Spring.
A well crafted poem of the day... Truly exceptional. Congrats on your featured piece.......5 stars*****
So very sorry to see that happening before my eyes, but luckily I have finished my comments on this poem as TMPOTD
CONGRATS being chosen as The Member Poem Of The Day. Hoorray! 5 Stars full on Top for this poem. This poem is no more on that place, replaced by Poem Hunter with Dr. Asim Nehal's poem
unexpecting bullets, her sister was shot dead by such a bullet, because she did not move to an expensive neighbourhood, yes, it's the story of flying bullets and its sequel. Touching poem, dear Poet! 5 Stars full
Like the youth of the two world famous tennis playing Venus ans Serena Williams. Their youth before they became rich and moved to another neighbourhood, the old neighbourhood was everyday full of
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/6/2025 10:27:33 PM # 1.0.0
Congratulations with most deserving The Member Poem Of The Day. Hooray! 5 Stars Full Vote for this very sad poem about a scattered dream. I read every day like this news, The death of very young people, true saddest. A true scintillating poem. Excellent.