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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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While the hungry ones pass by the fruits of life upon the ground, The king and queen are leaving and they're not making any sound. In the coming of twilight there is a soldier standing bare, The battles he been fighting are not recorded anywhere. There's a prince and a pauper fighting for a wagon and horse, Both are dreaming of freedoms that have already run their course. The daughter of the soldier was long ago loved by the prince, But she married the pauper and has lived with him ever since. Sometimes late on the ev'ning she can hear him calling her name, He begs for her forgiveness and swears he was never to blame. Now the stable's four henchmen have at last broken up the fight, And the prince and the pauper soon disappeared into the night. The queen's having second thoughts about absconding with the king, The palace, with its grandeur, to her had meant everything. She knew he'd been unfaithful behind the walls of the courtyard, But, then again, so had she, with the new leader of the guard. The mare was sweating highly as she galloped against the wind, The town lay far behind them and she would not look back again. A preacher woke at midnight, sat up and shook his weary head, Wondered 'bout the commotion from the smooth comfort of his bed. The alter wine was tasty and the communion had gone well, Thought about the pauper's wife and all those dreams he can't re-tell. He heard the fading hoof beats and knew it was the kings own roan, Little did the preacher know would be tonight he died alone. The pauper's wife was ageing faster than her chores could be done, Since he had up and left her there were no battles be won. Too often she'd be thinking "what if the prince had come for me? I'd not be mopping up floors, I'd be in royal company". The windows had been shuttered and all the lights had been turned down, No one's left to "fare thee well"; she was the last to leave this town. The dust has long been settled on those deserted roads of life, The broken king lives no more, his memory's kept by his wife. She still sees the old soldier and they've become the best of friends, Once they took to the wagon and traveled to their living ends. Was heard the prince shot himself, the preacher was found in his bed; One loan dog howls at the moon that's been floating high overhead.

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Just Down the Road From Salem

While the hungry ones pass by the fruits of life upon the ground, The king and queen are leaving and they're not making any sound. In the coming of twilight there is a soldier standing bare, The battles he been fighting are not recorded anywhere. There's a prince and a pauper fighting for a wagon and horse, Both are dreaming of freedoms that have already run their course. The daughter of the soldier was long ago loved by the prince, But she married the pauper and has lived with him ever since. Sometimes late on the ev'ning she can hear him calling her name, He begs for her forgiveness and swears he was never to blame. Now the stable's four henchmen have at last broken up the fight, And the prince and the pauper soon disappeared into the night. The queen's having second thoughts about absconding with the king, The palace, with its grandeur, to her had meant everything. She knew he'd been unfaithful behind the walls of the courtyard, But, then again, so had she, with the new leader of the guard. The mare was sweating highly as she galloped against the wind, The town lay far behind them and she would not look back again. A preacher woke at midnight, sat up and shook his weary head, Wondered 'bout the commotion from the smooth comfort of his bed. The alter wine was tasty and the communion had gone well, Thought about the pauper's wife and all those dreams he can't re-tell. He heard the fading hoof beats and knew it was the kings own roan, Little did the preacher know would be tonight he died alone. The pauper's wife was ageing faster than her chores could be done, Since he had up and left her there were no battles be won. Too often she'd be thinking "what if the prince had come for me? I'd not be mopping up floors, I'd be in royal company". The windows had been shuttered and all the lights had been turned down, No one's left to "fare thee well"; she was the last to leave this town. The dust has long been settled on those deserted roads of life, The broken king lives no more, his memory's kept by his wife. She still sees the old soldier and they've become the best of friends, Once they took to the wagon and traveled to their living ends. Was heard the prince shot himself, the preacher was found in his bed; One loan dog howls at the moon that's been floating high overhead.