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 In churned up soil the poppy rose On top of death, still steadily grows And in our minds we see the crosses That lie in rows and count our losses Blood that drips from tiniest bloom Beloved children, lost from the womb Their essence blown upon the earth For infinity, will show their worth And so they marched by decree A war they fought, so we could be free The poppy, how we remember them now So in silence we do reverently bow One single day, just once every year To remember all the horror and fear To give thanks and praise, to those in need Who saved us through unselfish deed For so young when they said goodbye With no idea that so many would die In Flanders Fields where poppies grow Innocence, now lays buried in each row For those that did return safely home Their spirit lost and so had flown To fly away among the peaceful skies With friends and larks with carefree eyes In the thunder hear the roar of guns Calling to all our native sons Arise, arise, from sleep once more For once again, there will be war In Flanders Fields, the poppies grow They cover our loved ones, buried below Like a blanket, they protect all within From a world that is ravished by sin More souls will join them as the years go by More wars will be fought, as the lark does cry More fields will be filled, with our dead And poppies will mark their graves in red "Lest we forget and more shall die" "In Flanders Fields our loved ones lie"
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