Some speak of the inevitability of progress.
While I rhyme of springtime
And trees that bud in ancient woods.
But autumn will surely come
And the trees undress.
Bare branches breed despair in some.
But spring sun will come
And buds appear in gardens and woods.
For nature has her cycle
Of death and rebirth
And cares not for what
We label as progress.
K Morris - Poet 
Now you only need some tune for it, and it would become a wonderful ballade. 😉 I love it, Kevin! Best wishes, Michael
Thank you, Michael! Re-reading my poem, I think you are correct, that it does possess a certain musicality.
Best wishes. Kevin
I agree with Michael. It does have a musical feel. Lovely piem.
Thank you, Vivienne. I’m delighted you like my poem.