With Microsoft informing us that AI is the next big thing, I figured that I would invite Co-pilot to write a poem about Naim Audio hi-fi. It came back with this:
Ode to Naim Audio
In a world where sound transcends mere notes, Naim Audio reigns, with the sweetest of quotes. Crafting melodies with precision and care, In hi-fi splendor, they lead us everywhere.
From the turntable’s grace to the amplifier’s might, Naim captures every nuance, every flicker of light. Each component, a symphony, a masterpiece grand, Designed to transport us to a musical land.
With sleek designs and aural delight, Naim Audio transforms the quiet night. Through speakers that sing with clarity pure, They weave a soundscape, inviting and sure.
Analog warmth and digital shine, In harmony, Naim lets the two entwine. From classical sonatas to modern beats, Every genre blossoms, every heart it greets.
Listeners enchanted by every refrain, Feel the pulse of music like gentle rain. In Naim’s embrace, we lose and find, The echoes of a dream, so beautifully designed.
So here’s to Naim, the maestro’s tool, In the realm of hi-fi, the gold standard, the rule. With every note, our spirits lift, Thanks to Naim Audio, the ultimate gift.
Hardly Poet Laureate material methinks 
I then asked Co-pilot to author me a poem about a frustrated owner who can no longer get his CD player repaired as Naim Audio no longer have stock of the transport mechanisms. This was my PC’s response:
The Silent Disc
In a corner, dust-tinged and forlorn,
Sits a CD player, memories worn.
His faithful companion, in music’s embrace,
Now silenced, it haunts the quiet space.
Its transport mechanism, once so sleek,
Now a relic, rare and antique.
He scoured the shops, made countless calls,
But no solution to the old machine’s stalls.
His favorite CDs, they gather dust,
In cases cracked and slightly rust.
From symphonies grand to rock’s loud cheer,
All trapped in silence, year after year.
He recalls the nights, with soft blue glow,
When melodies would drift and flow.
The player’s spin, a gentle hum,
Now just a memory, it leaves him numb.
He dreams of days when parts were plenty,
When every fix wasn’t just a memory.
But times have changed, and tech moves on,
Leaving the past, where it’s all but gone.
So here he sits, in wistful sigh,
With a silent disc, and a longing eye.
Yet in his heart, those tunes remain,
A timeless echo, in joy and pain.
What’s all this about a “soft blue glow”? An prototype development model perhaps?
