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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I watched the endless procession of stalwart youth, resplendent in their panoply gathered, a steelly passion filling resolute gait. And I asked of them, "To what place does such noble assemblage march?" "To the Temple of Ares, and Glory's Gate, to burn of names in Honor's book That they may be reverenced by heroes," said they. A thousand sundry banners danced in the morning breeze, And the sun this day was no more radiant than hard Youth's gaze which beheld it. Then, an eagle, portentious? burst forth from the sky's vast vault to augur their triumph! But they could not see his tired tear, so far the distance... And soon, unleashed, the gods of carnage with ghastly abandon sang their drunken Practiced hymn- Of young hearts cleft by musket or spear, "Oh, let swords, lusting, rage, And thirsting deeply drink As the glory of kings is yet again By the blood of children authored. Then walked I 'mongst the torn and sacred dead Through a sea of gore and Glory served...and Came upon a writhing form whom playful Death had not full claimed As charred lips mouthed their sad entreating: "Grant me, sir, some kind embrace, and a hand not raised in wrath- for now I die, all dreams undone, as forlorn seas strong beckon." And then, another broken form lied grasping a comrade's dead limp hand Whose emptied eyes now stared afixed upon some nameless moment of Eternity, Lifeless, cold, and sad, unknowing the touch of the lover's dying kiss Collapsing, still, and quiet atop him... A father stooped to lift the head of his precious shattered boy, As with Grief's awkward tenderness his fine locks stroked, And hoped some life to thereby confer... And a crescendoing rumble filled the valley. For Ares laughed. Then I saw a spectral legion and asked of their shadowed ranks-"Where do you march, of Withered souls?" "To the House of Death and Tears...alas, to Death and tears." Behind them not too much afar, with the clamouring of bugles and the thunder of drums rose once more the strident cry:"To Glory's Gate!" as in witness the Dead sighed and Ares bellowed in his mirth...
Enter Author Name (Not Required)