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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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Aroma and Phosphur
Still here, on a day wrapped in blue and fog, learning to become a player in wars and empires, serving the men who plan them. I sit and watch as the god of night slowly pulls his shade across the sky, turns his key in the lock and the zodiac opens. Quiet and moonlight spill on the water as I think of warm nights wrapped in confused arms legs and sigh (your hair so long and falling around me). This searching and travelling towards an impure, unsaid poetry leaves me startled to realize I've been speaking prose my whole life, and I wonder if I've grown mad by my terrible attempts to interpret love and life with underlying truth. It's so hard to express, manipulate, forge from black and white, beat out with a pen, white hot on the anvil of watermarks and binder's glue these sly expressions hiding melancholy and detachment. I laugh quiet at my amateurish attempts at stealing nothing from death, ending not in splendor but silence, and can't decide to bow or curse at being all too human. I close my eyes, remembering the feel of your warm skin, lying next to me in yesterday's sun, you with eyes of a color to shame the sea, and know we all sleep and bleed to death from the grinding rasp of words. As the low quiet murmurs of others and conversation fade around me, I fall to dreaming, and the pen fails me, again.
Copyright © 2024 Andrew Foreman. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs