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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Diary Entry
My days and nights are tossed.Lost is the meaning of time and the need to wear a watch. The room has shrunk to the size of a desk. Time grows smaller still, and I get carried away in the river that runs between the words.The shaded light - dusk or dawn? Do I want to know; do I care? My mind's in the swing of wordy things and their endless combinations; they feed me all I need to grow. My thirst is quenched in waves of imagination, and I rest in the music of friends, new and old. Eyes shut to the judgement of wasted moments; the metered march of the passionless who perform but leave their lovers unfulfilled, craving the sincerity of a selfless seduction. I shelve the artificial progression of life, do what matters most, and lose myself in the serious silliness that I know to be the heart of me. I shake loose the fractional anguish at the loss of a wayward phrase, and I recognize the need to breathe in the color red before the final period has closed the page. Is it poem or essay? Ode or not? Is this expense of energy equal to another's perfect day? It matters not. My soul has taken communion with the word and Rilke is pleased.
Copyright © 2024 Maggie Flanaganwilkie. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs