Yes, “poesy” is an archaic term for poetry. Apropos of a writing prompt. A challenge to use some words from an “endangered” list of our own choosing. Not all the ones I came up with are necessarily that uncommon. But most are ones you won’t run across frequently. Here they are followed by the poetry.
Virgil Virgule had a slashing wit, albeit tendered gently to his friend Jane.
Weekend morns restore Jane’s body and soul.
Saturday at sunrise, a lakeside cedar sauna empties pores;
Promptly plunging into gelid waters slams them shut.
Finland fecundity on his mind, she’s not so sure.
He sees peripatetic pines seeking sweet solace,
Among aspen placid in wintry white year round.
Fulminating on the sophistry of Rehnquist opinions so long ago
Flights of fancy—future fun; satire is dead in a world of alternative facts.
NOTE 1: Virgule is the real name of a forward slash. Trees aren’t known to walk far, if at all. But this is poetry.
NOTE 2: There STILL is a book coming this spring. It IS late. We hope you will see it in time for summer reading. What? As if you might be going to the beach or some other destination! Where you might read it—enroute. Stay tuned; advance notice will be posted when it is forthcoming. You could still read it at home, couldn’t you?