Pastoral Rondelet
My rondelet in response to V. Walker's National Poetry Month Daily Challenge #9: Ekphrastic Poetry Challenge.
Welcome to Day 9 of National Poetry Month! Remember that if you’d like to take part in these fun challenges, please see V. Walker’s post with the week 1 and 2 prompts here and subscribe to her!
April 9th Prompt: “Ekphrastic Poetry Challenge.” Write a poem inspired by one of these three pieces of art: one, two, three.
My Choice, Piece #3: I decided to write my poem about “A Herd With Cattle In A Mountainous Landscape” by Dutch artist Hendrikus van de Sande Bakhuyzen. It was, in my opinion, the most plain of the three paintings, and subsequently, that caught my attention! There’s something so beautiful about the subtlety of the painting, and I wanted to build on that here. I hope I did the art justice!
P.S.: Although I usually make some art or remix art on Canva, I am not doing that today so that you all can take in the beauty of this painting before you read my rondelet.
The earth crumbles beneath my feet, desiccated and dry,
And as I pause for a moment, I feel an emotion so strong
I stop in my tracks, for fear the feeling may die,
And I feel the weight of this life, both tiresome and long—
With dirt under our nails and eyes affixed to the sky,
We toil as our sorrows turn, like alchemy, to song.
I stop in my tracks, for fear the feeling may die,
And I feel the weight of this life, both tiresome and long—
I let my animals graze, and with a soft sigh,
My mind begins to wander from its usual drong.
With dirt under our nails and eyes affixed to the sky,
We toil as our sorrows turn, like alchemy, to song.
I let my animals graze, and with a soft sigh,
My mind begins to wander from its usual drong.
The majesty of the landscape brings a tear to my eye,
And I reckon I am, as any, one of many in life’s throng.
With dirt under our nails and eyes affixed to the sky,
We toil as our sorrows turn, like alchemy, to song.
The majesty of the landscape brings a tear to my eye,
And I reckon I am, as any, one of many in life’s throng.
I know home is calling me, but I still wish that I could fly,
For although I am bound to duty, I know what I feel isn’t wrong.
With dirt under our nails and eyes affixed to the sky,
We toil as our sorrows turn, like alchemy, to song.
WOW you definitely did it justice!