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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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
It Seems To Me But Yesterday
On the edge of the sand I sit alone 'n perpetual solitude where I am least without you Embracing a worn out sweater I recall your name written in the stars I recall your life carved upon my heart This heart which never lived to know love's depth Smudged lashes flutter as fallen dewdrops trickle across the pale glow of my cheek I gasp for air ,still holding to a dream which dies ever so slow before it is ever born. With heavy eye-lids I gaze into a starry sky awaiting the moon to move on Cuz I know,You know The moon always moves on But tonight,tonight is the longest of dark nights Tonight every spirit is silent and everything is still It seems to me but yesterday You were here by my side I believed We'd come to be yet We never will Maybe in a tomorrow a fragrant wind would breathe its zephyr breeze upon the scarlet of my lips But I know,It would not be your kiss Or maybe I would hear a hush-hushed whisper 'neath the tender of my ear But I know,It would not be your song which sprinkles everlasting bliss It seems to me but yesterday You were here by my side I believed We'd come to be yet We never will Maybe in a day after,or ever after the small red lighthouse brings back your sails to my land and our footprints lead the path to where last peach trees stand But till then,empty is the womb which births your touch from wafts of waves Sterile is the sea which calls your name Till then, Aborted is each thought which owns this soul Till then I would not be here Our world would be forsaken Till then, every remembrance of who We are would all be gone.
Copyright © 2024 Charmaine Chircop. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs