Friday, June 12, 2026

Friday Writings #231: White Sails Flying



Greetings, dear Word Weavers!

Who loves sailing? I've done very little of it, unfortunately, and as passenger rather than crew – but even that little I found exhilarating. But you don't have to write about the experience of sailing today; you might just write about watching boats sail ... or about something which 'sails' metaphorically.

In addition, you might like to write something formal.

Although my natural tendency is to write in free verse, I also enjoy playing with form. How many of you like to do the same? 

Most recently I’ve tried (not for the first time) a word acrostic, where you take a phrase or sentence, or a line of poetry – your own or someone else’s – and make each word of it (in the original order) the beginning of a new line in a new poem of your own. There are also letter acrostics, where one uses instead each letter of a word or phrase, in turn, to begin a line of poetry. 

Here are a couple of old ones of mine, to illustrate:  a letter acrostic and a word acrostic.

(The acrostic, while qualifying as a form, allows you still to write in free verse – though you could of course choose to use rhyme and metre if you wish.)

I offer you the following words from T. S. Eliot’s poem, Ash Wednesday. In this poem he seems to feel obliged to choose between the natural world and some austere version of the Christian heaven. I very much love a section full of longing for the Earthly beauty he feels he must renounce, which includes these lines:

From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings 

 

 


 Sails (some white!) in the last Sydney – Hobart yacht race (on my TV). 
© Rosemary Nissen-Wade 2025

 

Your optional prompt this week is to let these lines inspire you, in whatever way they will, to some writing of your own.

Extra (also optional): If you choose, take the lines quoted, or part thereof, and use either each word, or each first letter of each word, to begin a new line of your new poem. If you choose to write in prose, where line endings and beginnings are not fixed, you could begin each new paragraph acrostically. 

Guidelines: We accept poetry or prose, new or old, one post per person, maximum 369 words (excluding title and notes). Post it to your blog. Link to that particular blog post via Mister Linky, below. Please read other participants’ work and leave encouraging comments when you can. You may also communicate with the team and each other in the comments section below.

Next week: We will invite you to write poetry or prose which includes the following 3 words: teeth, hammer, blooms.

Friday, June 5, 2026

Friday Writings #230: Surprise Me!

 


Hello, Word Artists and Admirers! I adore the simple pleasure of a nice, hot shower. My husband probably would say that hot is an understatement (he's compared my preferred temperature to that of fires of Mordor).
All I need is a rubber duck

Recently I was on a business trip. Part of the group activities included getting into a tub filled with ice water. Perhaps I would have been less willing to try it if it wasn't outside under the blazing Texas sun. I definitely didn't expect to manage it well enough to last 90 seconds and be curious enough to try it again, if the opportunity presents itself.

So for today's optional prompt, I'd like you to write about a time you surprised yourself. I'm taking poetry and prose, fiction and non-fiction. Just be sure to keep your pieces to 369 words or fewer, and one piece per person, please.

Next week, we'll ask you to be inspired by the following words from T. S. Eliot’s poem, Ash Wednesday

From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings