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)Required I For long faulted as wicked causing pain, And condemned as crooks of a cruel kind— Old prejudice or heartless brain’s refrain, Repeated ad nauseam a point to grind— An error all the same of humankind, Yet, thorns for sure, villains we never are, Veil not Flowers your harsh front hid behind, Thorns might have cruel look, but kindly core. Your spring blossoms, Flowers, bestirred by breeze Oft a caress steal at an early dawn, Or take your youthful buds on life’s new lease, Who love to pinch a spike of a naïve thorn. Try to be your own judge O to tell us: Who’s innocent, who has harsh animus? II Innocent who’s, who has impish passion, Your spring blossom no less than red rage is To us— lifelong mendicants on mission— You lure, sway us— meditating sages, Whenever your youthful blossoms embrace Us, try sway us from our austere a course, And still, we thorns not once have lost our grace, Blamed no less still in popular discourse… That, innocent seems to be tender skin, Not our kind oh with a rough exterior, We thorns are scarce evil from core within, Yet, it’s not so to this world of error. Aphrodite shoots with arrows of flowers, Whilst Shiva’s trident fair blessings showers. III Yet, weapon of war’s called Shiva’s trident, Whilst flowers get undue paeans of praise, These ways or world fail not us to amaze, If truth assailed is, it’s no accident. Why, wonder I, He who would trident bear, Cares for no worship performed with flowers, Scorches passion of world, poison doth bear, Why Shiva over all deities towers. The way thorns are, no flower’s ever known, We point places to go, point to the time, Point at duty, why kings wear thorn-studded crown…. Not flowers, thorns point to places so prime. Rejoice O Flowers still, you win the day, Whilst doomed are we to live a life of lay. ________________________________________ Crown of Sonnets |07.03.2024| flower, thorn
Enter Author Name (Not Required)