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 Lying on the fresh mown lawn, With buttercups aglow, Trying hard to stay awake, My eyelids saying no. Sun above me eating in, Perhaps I’ll get a tan, The temperature soaring, I sure need my handheld fan. A butterfly is circling, With its patterned blue and yellow, marshes at the garden’s end, Beside the stream there, mellow. Summer noises from the crickets, While the days stay long, Sunset so much later, As the glowing rays beam strong. Roses needing watering, No rain seems poised to fall, Stroll to it leisurely style, There’s no need to rush at all. A ladybird adorns my arm, It’s poignant black and red, Another butterfly descends, Over the flower bed. A lazy summer evening, As the day meanders by, Another early August day, With no clouds in the sky. The marshes do attract the frogs, Was that how I awoke? The flapping of the butterfly? The frog’s untimely croak? I read the paper’s headlines, Then again I close my eyes, I’m dreaming of a land that houses, Frogs and butterflies. The light now getting dimmer, Bid the mellow marsh good night, The lawnmower back in the shed, The shine of solar light. A stroll into the kitchen, Time to lock up now for bed, Was going to go out tonight, Lay here content instead. And as I stroll the staircase, Think of butterflies and marsh, I think that I’m not mellow, But perhaps I’m being harsh?
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