Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Sonnet Xv
Wakes are supposed to be a tradition where friends and family pay their respects to the deceased. On this point, I do not disagree. However, I find certain aspects of this custom unnecessary and unnerving. Just the atmosphere alone is depressing: The unnatural smell of flowers that ordinarily in nature have their own unique, pleasing fragrances are now combined in a cold parlor emanating a macabre odor. Again, this is tolerable. What I object to is the eulogist using this sad occasion to further the grief of the mourners that are already on overload. This I think is unnecessary, to say the least, and serves no humane purpose. I consider this an infringement as in the case of the priest in the following poem. The casket sits alone amid the blooms. The mingled scents emit abnormal stench. A sickly perfume permeates the room. A somber, crying queue awaits; all drenched In tears. A priest is standing tall beside The bier. He motions us to be seated. The eulogy commences. Quiet cries Commingled words of praise repeated, Unduly interrupted further speech. Alas! His deed is done. He overwhelms Us. Grief imbues our thoughts. It seemed to reach My inner sanctum; He trespassed this realm This morn. Unhallowed ground I do believe. I stood a moment, turned, and took my leave.
Copyright © 2024 Albert Ahearn. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things