A world of words that heals
FLOW is a safe, open community where poems, stories, letters and lyrics help people process trauma, share their truth, and feel less alone — in honour of our late patron, Dame Vera Lynn.
Scottish Charitable Organisation · SC050666 · Don't worry about spelling — just write
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View all →Eventide
Settling back at the end of the day At the hush of eventide A stillness o’er the scene before you As though the whole world is pacified All the boats have come to moorings At the end of a busy day From a pastime that gives much pleasure All the sailors well satisfied...
Lakeside
Sitting by the water at the end of the day I closed my eyes for awhile Thinking of how time was passing by Not noticed by the rank and file Of a society living life as best they might With what seems like the speed of light And here am I sat at the waterside As yet...
Heritage.
Eyes to the sky and what do we see Another day is well under way Look to the sky and what do we see A blanket of Blue spread before us From here to infinity With clouds below and above Like a scarf gently wrapped around Perfectly placed for the Artist As his...
I’ve Welcomed War
Broken battered trenches, and lines of wounded sat on benches, men spluttering and choking as a deadly warning, will we live to see the morning? The air is thick with ghastly stenches, I’ve welcomed war. The gas just loves to hiss and groan, while we’re spluttering...
NO MAN’S LAND
Swans nest where Willows rest As soldiers lay their batons down Weary from the noise and smoke Collapse in heaps upon the ground Sorrow etched on faces black Hell has landed in their brains Peace is lost for soldier Jack He will never be the same Seeing sights, no man...
BRAVE, BRAVE, BOMBER
How easy To leave a bomb on a train How proud You will feel to kill and to maim How brave To leave your mayhem behind Such pleasure To read of the dead , injured, blind Praise Allah You murdered some Kaffir today Men, women, children who got in the way I’ll pray to...
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Imagining End of the World
I saw the four horsemen of the apocalypse Beckoning me to join them on their midnight ride Death, pestilence, plague and war They were ready to ride into the sunset Spreading their hate with them As they led the world to its foretold doom The end days were approaching...
No More Coffee Blues
I love coffee Always have And coffee has loved me back But lately I have sourced on her Soured on the whole coffee scene On the harshness of the morning brew And the promises it makes As I sip of its nectar Drawn into its lair Drinking drop by drop As the caffeine...
The voice of my doom
Walking deep in the woods high above the city near the airport I heard them then saw them hideous black crows looking at me cackling at me laughing at me mocking me calling me names I asked what they wanted they laughed and said nothing but your doom and they flew...
Rapid City No Where
Last summer We drove across the country Just the wife and me 10,000 miles 31 states Three months on the road I now know why people don’t live In South Dakota Hot, dry dusty Windy as hell Black Hills are nice But after seeing Mt. Rushmore There is not much left to do...
Looking Out My Window
I look out my window On the parking lot And see the mad cat That lives underneath the apartment house And look out at the park Thinking of taking a walk The cat looks at me Kindred spirits perhaps Retired waiting to die
Say a Prayer or 2
Say a prayer for those soon to be dead For they will not go home smiling They will not hear the bands, See the celebration or relish the glory Say a prayer for those soon to be dead They will not know the pride felt for them Nor enjoy the freedoms their loss upholds...
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"Through my own experiences in talking with the boys and girls about their thoughts on war and how they felt about going into action… through poetry they express themselves with absolute clarity, deep feeling and simplicity. I only have to read 'In Flanders Field' or Kipling's 'Tommy' to fully appreciate and be thankful for the beauty of FLOW. We must never forget them."
Dame Vera Lynn DBE — Our late patron, 1917–2020
