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.
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
I 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.