As the duo made their way across the country roads,

  They came across a creek, an aquatic abode.

  Surrounded by hemlocks, finches ringing all around,

  Dry leaves decaying plants surrounding the forest grounds.

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  "What good can you spot here?", asked the minister bewildered.

  For for him whatever beauty lays layed in objects lush and live:

  The dead and decayed had no right to be looked at, let alone admired.

  He was curious too, what will the Bard say? How will she vide?

  "Sire! These falling leaves display the cycle of nature!

  What comes, goes; that what is born, is bound to die. Such is life Sire!

  Attestation that past dies to awaken the future!

  The cry of a new born is owed to those near a funerary pyre,Sire!"