A poem generated from random words over the course of April. See comment below for full details of how I wrote  it.

A chilly April morning. Lazy lambs 

couch lifeless in the fields like balled up fists 

in woolly mitts. I need no diagram

to clarify the Spring: the tousled strips

of trees beside the river view an uproarious 

theatre of water, the riot of the weir and lak...

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