Inspired by Steve Tiffany's Icon Poet which he wrote for 
the Amiga computer, I created a Windows version in 1998
for wider compatibility.  Couldn't get the full smoothness
of operation that Steve had achieved for the Amiga, or in
his current online version, but it works well enough.

Steve refers to his creation as 
human/machine collaboration.

The software randomly suggests a word based
on your button click.  You accept or reject
the suggestion, or possibly type things in.

Here is my WinPoet for Windows, 1998:

Canvas sails and leafy beds,
clover milk and strawy breads,
float across the woolly sky,
earth and clay and dewy eye.

Cherry dogs beyond the river
gather paper cups
to dream indeed
and wait for sunset's
faded silver pups.

Random beauty caught the dancer
over by the bashful wood,
youthful in its golden answer
to anticipated good
chance encounters with romance -- her
candled heart did what it could
to catch her shy and fellow prancer.
Thinking not, it understood.

Saucy dancers watch and dream
as regal leisures kindly pass.
Silver girls think sleepy cream
will softly fill their glass.

Were robots rich in forested glow,  
or lawyers grand for garden weddings,
could common doctors likewise throw
bashful hands across our beddings?

Lacy kittens, reckless mice,
love the clever curse,
throwing cheese, throwing rice
at each others hearse.

Lamas from the cherry valley
follow faded trails
into lowlands final tally
where puppies ring the golden bells.

Milky models love the sound
of modern ducks in stoney town. 
Chalky riders gather round 
beery cats in evening gowns.

Schooled in the dubious art of the weather,
professional clowns imagine predictions
of cloudy dim visions producers untether
on markets obsessed with ratings addictions.

For masters of media sell oily preachers
to gluey eyed keepers of broadcasts' estate
and sugar free widows craving a feature
devoted to dewy eyed anchormens' fate.

Sullen sailors hang their ropes
upon the silent seas 
where balmy hearts and fragile hopes
implore the tattered breeze 
to scatter deckhands through the haze
of misty journey's end
where churning oceans bend the gaze
that dying sailors send.

Where shadow's hand would close our journey,
parting eyes turn toward eternity,
entering infinity across strange forests,
wearing white anguish beyond dark towers.

Parting soft breath opining our love,
touching vast fields beyond our grief,
reaching distant streets above our arms,
stretching back to wait for me you dream.

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