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.



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Free Verse Fever
Attraction free verse I see you there, across the aisle, in the second carriage on the train. Perched on the edge of your seat, as if in eager anticipation, crushingly not for me. Your eyes, like emeralds, a stark contrast to your jettison orange hair that melts a sunset. Though our eyes don't meet and you sift through pages of a book with boundless charisma, I deeply urge you to look so intently, so warmly, into my face with the same zeal. Your brow is creased but with intrigue not doubt. Your ears pricked sharply as though you can hear my very breath, so I find myself gasping in and slowing breathing out through pursed lips. How quaint or how ackward if he were to glance at me now. But no, he is intent from his defined jawline to his broad forehead solely indebted to one thing, and that is not me. His cheeks are dabbed in red as though the cold had kissed them. Maybe he's a country boy with the hills in his veins. But the way he dresses may hold some conclusions. A tweed jacket and a tartan scarf, Scottish, no he can't be. His lips are too refined, his stubble too tame. Maybe he is from the south with a country estate. Playing polo on an evening and riding horseback into the rolling sunset of the English hills. Nigh I can not tell, but he is a man wrapped in mystery. He brings wells of butterflies from the pits of my stomach and traps my voice in the furthest depths of my chest. He makes my mind limp, overcome with an avalanche of emotion, only capable to think solely of one thing, him. I am miss marple though ready for the challenge. But first I need to let his eyes meet mine so that sweet sympthony can begin. Oh, what am I thinking? I, with my messy bun drawn to one side and my dress arching up my right leg and bags from a long day's work sunken under my eyes. But I do have a smile, a friendly gesture to meet this intrigue that is male. And hope, most likely in vain but still hope, that he looks past my meager appearance and sees a soul as deeply in twined in mystery that he would seek to be my sherlock. Attraction 13.01.2020
Copyright © 2024 Charlotte Watkins. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs