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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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Happily Never After: the Second Curse of the Horny Toad by Michael R. Burch He did not think of love of Her at all frog-plangent nights, as moons engoldened roads through crumbling stonewalled provinces, where toads (nee princes) ruled in chinks and grew so small at last to be invisible. He smiled (the fables erred so curiously), and thought bemusedly of being reconciled to human flesh, because his heart was not incapable of love, but, being cursed a second time, could only love a toad’s . . . and listened as inflated frogs rehearsed cheekbulging tales of anguish from green moats . . . and thought of her soft croak, her skin fine-warted, his anemic flesh, and how true love was thwarted. Originally published by Romantics Quarterly. Keywords/Tags: frog, horny, toad, prince, princess, curse, kiss, fable, true love, magic, spell, spells, croak, kingdom Happily Never After by Michael R. Burch Happily never after, we lived unmerrily (write it! —like disaster) in Our Kingdom by the See as the man from Porlock's laughter drowned out love's threnody. We ditched the red wheelbarrow in slovenly Tennessee and made a picturebook of poems, a postcard for Tse-Tse, a list of resolutions we knew we couldn't keep, and asylum decorations for the King in his dark sleep. We made it new so often strange newness, wearing old, peeled off, and something rotten gleamed dull yellow, not like gold: like carelessness, or cowardice, and redolent of pee. We stumbled off, our awkwardness—new Keystone comedy. Huge cloudy symbols blocked the sun; onlookers strained to see. We said We were the only One. Our gaseous Melody had made us Joshuas, and so—the Bible, new-rewrit, with god removed, replaced by Show and Glyphics and Sanskrit, seemed marvelous to Us, although King Ezra said, "It's S—t." We spent unhappy hours in Our Kingdom of the Pea, drunk on such Awesome Power only Emperors can See. We were Imagists and Vorticists, Projectivists, a Dunce, Anarchists and Antarcticists and anti-Christs, and once We'd made the world Our oyster and stowed away the pearl of Our too-, too-polished wisdom, unanchored of the world, We sailed away to Lilliput, to Our Kingdom by the See and piped the rats to join Us, to live unmerrily hereever and hereafter, in Our Kingdom of the Pea, in the miniature ship Disaster in a jar in Tennessee.

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Happily Never After

Happily Never After: the Second Curse of the Horny Toad by Michael R. Burch He did not think of love of Her at all frog-plangent nights, as moons engoldened roads through crumbling stonewalled provinces, where toads (nee princes) ruled in chinks and grew so small at last to be invisible. He smiled (the fables erred so curiously), and thought bemusedly of being reconciled to human flesh, because his heart was not incapable of love, but, being cursed a second time, could only love a toad’s . . . and listened as inflated frogs rehearsed cheekbulging tales of anguish from green moats . . . and thought of her soft croak, her skin fine-warted, his anemic flesh, and how true love was thwarted. Originally published by Romantics Quarterly. Keywords/Tags: frog, horny, toad, prince, princess, curse, kiss, fable, true love, magic, spell, spells, croak, kingdom Happily Never After by Michael R. Burch Happily never after, we lived unmerrily (write it! —like disaster) in Our Kingdom by the See as the man from Porlock's laughter drowned out love's threnody. We ditched the red wheelbarrow in slovenly Tennessee and made a picturebook of poems, a postcard for Tse-Tse, a list of resolutions we knew we couldn't keep, and asylum decorations for the King in his dark sleep. We made it new so often strange newness, wearing old, peeled off, and something rotten gleamed dull yellow, not like gold: like carelessness, or cowardice, and redolent of pee. We stumbled off, our awkwardness—new Keystone comedy. Huge cloudy symbols blocked the sun; onlookers strained to see. We said We were the only One. Our gaseous Melody had made us Joshuas, and so—the Bible, new-rewrit, with god removed, replaced by Show and Glyphics and Sanskrit, seemed marvelous to Us, although King Ezra said, "It's S—t." We spent unhappy hours in Our Kingdom of the Pea, drunk on such Awesome Power only Emperors can See. We were Imagists and Vorticists, Projectivists, a Dunce, Anarchists and Antarcticists and anti-Christs, and once We'd made the world Our oyster and stowed away the pearl of Our too-, too-polished wisdom, unanchored of the world, We sailed away to Lilliput, to Our Kingdom by the See and piped the rats to join Us, to live unmerrily hereever and hereafter, in Our Kingdom of the Pea, in the miniature ship Disaster in a jar in Tennessee.