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 Here I sit on the stump, of a dead messmate gum, where house-keeping is poor, for the cleansed human mind; the dead is not buried, so the living survive. I see the fine balance, in a world that’s unkind. There is always the devil, that lurks out of sight, to balance the scales, and to keep the world strong. There is no place for the weak, and so they succumb, as the feast in the forest, where they did belong. From this stump I can see, the growth of brand new life; with saplings that are thriving, upward to the sun, hosting throngs of parasites, striving hard to breed, but there’s predators waiting, to bring their hope undone. This fine messmate gum that once lived and has since died, ruled for generations with a need to provide; today it’s timber survives, although mummified, and it’s saplings are growing, scattered far and wide. There’s a stringybark close by, avoiding the axe; a fallen black wattle, blighted by bardi grub. Lightning split manna gum, now petrified wood, and old wombat tracks, are covered up by scrub. The bush has all the power, to regenerate. This stump of the messmate, will nearly be concealed, and slowly be forgotten, in the midst of time; its days in the forest - no longer be revealed. How will my soul dwell, in this natural garden? Will it flit like a butterfly; glide like a snake; or soar like an eagle, beyond the gum tree tops, or drift down the rivers, and then float on a lake. This fine messmate gum that once lived and has since died, ruled for generations with a need to provide; today it’s timber survives, although mummified, and it’s saplings are growing, scattered far and wide.
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