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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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I caress the blooms of the lilac bush and breathe their sweet fragrant breath. Here in my garden where spring has risen from the melting heart of winter’s death. And when a gentle breeze kisses my face, I am simply blown away, to that magical place, where you wait for me, along the Fundy Bay. Bare foot, I skip down a Granite paved road, flanked with ditches where morning glories grow, as I move through a mist of ocean brine, streaked with rainbows that melt in the morning sunshine and drip from the blooms of a every Sea Salt rose. The house - its asphalt shingles, sparkling in many shades of grey - stands firmly on its hardwood pillars buried deep down in the clay, the same clay I mold into a tiny earthen vase, that joins the jars of pollywogs and dandelion garlands, all lined up on the old root- cellar doors, where I play. And in a cloud of purple perfusion, again, I breathe the breath from the lilac bush that grows there, beside the brook, as those white lace curtains flutter out the kitchen window, and beat against the window frame - fanning the heat from those fresh baked apple pies - as another tear falls from my eye. Then, from a distant pine, I hear the white throated sparrow singing, her melancholy tune and the clap of the screen door as I step into that room, a child again breathing the breath from a lilac bloom. “Mom….. ……………. I’m home!”

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Reflections of You

I caress the blooms of the lilac bush and breathe their sweet fragrant breath. Here in my garden where spring has risen from the melting heart of winter’s death. And when a gentle breeze kisses my face, I am simply blown away, to that magical place, where you wait for me, along the Fundy Bay. Bare foot, I skip down a Granite paved road, flanked with ditches where morning glories grow, as I move through a mist of ocean brine, streaked with rainbows that melt in the morning sunshine and drip from the blooms of a every Sea Salt rose. The house - its asphalt shingles, sparkling in many shades of grey - stands firmly on its hardwood pillars buried deep down in the clay, the same clay I mold into a tiny earthen vase, that joins the jars of pollywogs and dandelion garlands, all lined up on the old root- cellar doors, where I play. And in a cloud of purple perfusion, again, I breathe the breath from the lilac bush that grows there, beside the brook, as those white lace curtains flutter out the kitchen window, and beat against the window frame - fanning the heat from those fresh baked apple pies - as another tear falls from my eye. Then, from a distant pine, I hear the white throated sparrow singing, her melancholy tune and the clap of the screen door as I step into that room, a child again breathing the breath from a lilac bloom. “Mom….. ……………. I’m home!”