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 sit next to her bed, holding her hand, watching her slip in and out of a lucid state. Occasionally, her eyes open and she tilts her head towards me and gives me a faint smile. It warms me to know that she is aware I am here. I give her hand a squeeze and wait for her gentle squeeze in return. She is so small, the body, now so frail, hardly making a statement on the sheets. Time was, several seasons ago, her physical presence was impressive, vibrant and alive. The eyes, now so dimmed by age were electric, holding your gaze with their warmth. She was a person to be dealt with. Strong, opinionated, and yes, even a little too critical for some tastes. But she was always honest to a fault and wore her integrity like a medal. She was the steel in her families foundation. As I look at her now, I cannot help but feel a sense of loss at what she has become. The shell of the person she once was. The person who was always holding forth is now just holding on. I know the will to fight is slipping away, and I am helpless to defend myself against it. I sense it before I know it. Something has changed as I sit here in the silent room. I gaze at her and see her mouth curled in a slight smile, a peaceful look enveloping her face. She is gone. The hand I hold does not return my touch. She has slipped away gracefully, never letting on that she was leaving. The day nurse enters the room and says I must be going. There is nothing left here for me to do. Mechanically I stand, bend to give her one last kiss, and carry the pieces of my heart out through the door. Bob Quigley Oct 3, 2011 This was not written from a specific personal experience, however, much of it I have lived.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)