Yikes! Poetry Too?
Although best known as a songwriter and lyricist, Tom is also a poet whose work has appeared in The Fiddlehead, Descant and several other poetry magazines. This page will feature some of his poems, old and new.
I walk the burden of snow on the branches the sway of the spruce in the breeze the rippling note of the raven the silent communion of trees the footprint of fox in the clearing the squeak of the trail where I tread all thoughts of the town disappearing wild music within me instead the rosehips like red, shrunken jewels gray sky with illusions of blue the sun looming low on the mountain the world giving winter its due though I may set words to my walking there’s little a man can explain I soon walk away from the keyboard to walk in the forest again ©Tom Lips, November 21, 2020
1 Comment
BobD
15/12/2020 18:38:00
Lovely poem Tom! Leave a Reply. |
AuthorI began writing something approximating verse when I was 11 years old, and I am still learning. Poetry, good or bad, arises from observation, experience, and the sheer love of playing with language. Archives
August 2023
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