Spring is young;
Do you hunger to be whole?
Would you hear me if I told you what I know?

Summer's bright;
Do I lighten listless days?
Are illusions safe when played by seasoned fools?

Autumn's long;
Are my songs just silly rhyme?
Were you saving up the time it took to read?

Winter's near;
Do you fear the fire for me?
Are your futile trembling knees for me ignored?

I had been thinking of Emerson, Lake & Palmer's C'est La Vie, and wondered how its structure and rhyme scheme would suit a poem.