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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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The Queen's Slippers - Part 1
Look at the eyes, windows of the soul. Then the intent, link below. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jc9En9WUzI8 "The Queen's Slippers - Part 1" There is an owl it perches on my heart digs it’s talons in like nine inch nails piercing thick skin gone thin it softly hoots, too diabolical for screeching watches me with frozen yellow-eyed silent contempt vengeful ferocity one blink it doesn’t think the need to kill is instinctual. Rising up wings beating in my throat there goes my heart like a tiny pale grey mouse not seen, not missed breathing it’s last breath unable to escape the uselessness of fighting “IT” – So, release, release, no point in crying, who would hear? Release, blue dopamine floods, neurotransmitter rains, die a silent death no more kangaroo court uneducated, unenlightened, prying, cruel intention games; clenched squeezing life force, sucked up blown back captive in barbed wire talons, smothered in a serotonin fluffy chest of feathered down defenselessness fits over my heart’s head like a foreign, prickly, bad-fitting Rose Thorn Crown Some sacred religious assassin it hovers, shows the story of Christmas Past before it swallows it’s final feast - the hooded girl is driven away in a time machine such an ignorant huntsman superior, vain, convinced he’s part of a big story, puffed up chest lobbying like a corrupt politician, Aspbergers is a rather lame excuse, in reality, he’s rather dull and boring, obtuse he’s consorting with unknowns for a savior leader-of-the-pack homecoming glory, gambles two precious hearts, Queen’s Slippers (not his) as minor chips, consorting with unknowns sitting in the other camp, classically de-throned; he’s no card sharp, they’re playing something well-known, they're playing with a full deck, Hearts are Trumps... The Pied Piper is playing his flute King Rat is playing the tune Home. The Owl is hovering, talons ever tighter “See?” It hoots, “You’ll never win.” I turn, as best I can, “I’m not dead yet.”, I grin. I’m locked in the Tower. Does the bird hold me? Perhaps, I hold The Bird. Locked in with an Owl in my Ivory Tower I’ve kept the best card until last, the most powerful to possess, I hold the hidden BOWER. (Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018) “A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path." Agatha Christie - The Last Seance (from The Hound of Death and Other Stories)
Copyright © 2024 Leanne Lovejoy-Burton. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things