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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required What a phlox in you I find, What a Rose Flower, oh babe: Bright like early morning sun of xmas. Succulent “things” like the rightly ripe pawpaw at my backyard. Oh Babe what a beauty you are to behold – Making gawping heads not able to eyes hold back, Goggling eyes round whole streets turning in ogle – Stupefying sensations sending down signals into phallic organs! And can I contain this fire of desire? Down my frame, too electrifying, feelings ductile, And whole system holding spellbound, as in phantasmagoria, A deep chill of early harmattan morning. Oh Babe, I can see the fiery flies of love In your luscious orbs flying, beckoning for a dear. But can I be your bee? my sweet sixteen! To your sweet red nipplenectars suck? like a suckling? What a phlox in you I find, Oh Babe, what a beauty you are to behold. And can I contain this fire of desire? Oh Babe, I can see fiery flies of love, In your luscious orbs flying, beckoning for a dear, Down my frame, too electrifying, feelings ductile, Making gawping heads not able to eyes hold back. What a Rose Flower, oh Babe: Bright like early morning sun of Xmas, Goggling eyes round whole streets turning in ogle – And whole system holding spellbound, as in phantasmagoria. But can I be your bee? my sweet sixteen! To your sweet red nipplenectars suck? like a suckling. A deep chill of early harmattan morning, Stupefying sensations sending down signals into phallic organs! Succulent “things” like rightly ripe pawpaw at my backyard: Nwanyi oma, my sweet Asaba Queen: delicious Xmas stew, I sing your conspicuous beauty, your deserving love: for am no philistine: What a feeling too conquering to contend, aphrodisiac! – A philter too difficult to contain, down my vein, my marrow! Sweetie, I adore your fine phizog amatory. Wow. A wonderful mien irresistible, cloud nine delirium tremens Down my pliant spine killing ardour sent. Figure -8 What a towering pulchritude, a pleasant statistics!
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