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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.

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On walls of cave in life gone by, stick dipped in last meals blood, I daubed the walls with drawings of the things I understood. A running dear, a hand held spear, me hiding by a tree, then carrying aloft the kill we’d eaten for our tea! A chisel and a hammer clashed as I chipped out my name above the door where I now worked, a sculpture of some fame. Gravestones in rhyme, I’d served my time apprenticed to my trade, statues and busts now served my lust as they were better paid. On parchment scroll, I played my role with feather for a quill my words recalled the deeds of all, and even their last will. But parchment brushed in coloured dyes I found much to my gain as portraits falling from my brush assured the buyer’s fame. But lifetimes pass and all evolve and now with ink and pen once again I write down thoughts, the cycle starts again. As rhyme unfolds from depths untold, once more I find my hand must serve the purpose born in me that centuries have planned. I blame the blood of hunters kill, the stone the chisel shaped the records on the parchment scroll that quill and ink had scraped, I blame the memories of old that kindle my desire igniting passions buried deep to spew forth poet’s fire. Ivor G Davies

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Poet's Fire

On walls of cave in life gone by, stick dipped in last meals blood, I daubed the walls with drawings of the things I understood. A running dear, a hand held spear, me hiding by a tree, then carrying aloft the kill we’d eaten for our tea! A chisel and a hammer clashed as I chipped out my name above the door where I now worked, a sculpture of some fame. Gravestones in rhyme, I’d served my time apprenticed to my trade, statues and busts now served my lust as they were better paid. On parchment scroll, I played my role with feather for a quill my words recalled the deeds of all, and even their last will. But parchment brushed in coloured dyes I found much to my gain as portraits falling from my brush assured the buyer’s fame. But lifetimes pass and all evolve and now with ink and pen once again I write down thoughts, the cycle starts again. As rhyme unfolds from depths untold, once more I find my hand must serve the purpose born in me that centuries have planned. I blame the blood of hunters kill, the stone the chisel shaped the records on the parchment scroll that quill and ink had scraped, I blame the memories of old that kindle my desire igniting passions buried deep to spew forth poet’s fire. Ivor G Davies