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 Infallible I fall into the rain, beneath me; My sky a glittery dust to thee, Calling the joy I hath not met, Thou cometh sweetly, but late. I fall into the cold, and just me; Only I understand the clouds, Oh! I cannot seek that ‘tis so loud, Too much noise, sickly around me! Those fallen tears around my head; The soundlessness of one’s fate, And hark, in such quietness, The decrepit being of hotness! Those ragged stars about my hair; Closing in on me, and my air, With hues dyed in drowned sunshine, But proud still, in its dried signs. For such heat hath closed me; Hath sifted me away from you. For such guilt hath haunted me; Hath kept me away anew. For such a love, that thou felt; But not yet felt again, today, The gaze that I once beheld, The words my heart cannot say. Wherefore art thou, my beloved; For t’is passion is tainted but pure, To behold, to instill, to demure, The meaning of this first love. Wherefore art thou, my paint; These poems hath not been said, I see chaos, and not a flesh of fate, I hath been loving in vain. Wherefore art thou, my gaze; Why cannot I see you through my face, To hear such a bountiful voice, To be about thee, in this bliss. Wherefore art thou, my voyage; I cannot stay this sober longer, And hysteria, turning into sobs, Like death, as my heart throbs. Wherefore art thou, my colour; Bestowed on thee my honour, And age, with my fleeting skin, Waiting in haste, to be seen. Wherefore art thou, my winter; Having too many doubts in summer, Awaiting a lover that lasts, By the moonlight and stardust. Wherefore art thou, my rain; And the sung that sings again, To release my midnight, its pain— To be my beloved, then. Wherefore art thou, my kiss; I can see your solemnity, A thousand unsung melodies, To bless, to make love to me; Wherefore art thou, my art; Too much of me is in my heart, But none with a charm like thee, Like the poet in fire, that in me. Wherefore art thou, my sword; I am bland now, and unheard, Unheard as the rain that falls, Amongst the sheltered walls. Wherefore art thou, my piano; The sound that arriveth late, But not late to be my memento— To remove all conscious hate. Wherefore art thou, my word; Improvised but reckless, my Lord, Ah! Calm but poisonous, like me, A fastidious silver, like thee.
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