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, but it works well enough. Steve referred to his creation as human/machine poetry 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.