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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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Driven by the forces around you driven by the forces behind you Driven by forces above you driven by forces beside you, driven by Forces all around you. The mouth is moving up and down but half of the story has not been told you travel half way around the world to have a dialogue behind the doors, the dessert are getting hot and the men are running around in frocks with their turbans waving in the air dancing around in a jubilant mood and everyone looking cool. I can recognize the music I rocked to it some years ago when I was living like a queen in the middle of the desert dreams. I see them waving flags and everyone is looking glad, they come from Sweden, Turkey and Germany to join their friends and family along the line. They descend upon the mountain and light the torch and dance on the dry grounds sprinkling rice grain around as a sign of fertility, and to resurrect their love ones from the dead. I could see the dead returning to life and all those who have Paid a painful sacrifice had a smile running across their faces And a passion that is filtering around in their head. All the dark places took on life and all the dark rooms were illuminated with bright lights, lights that penetrate and warm the souls, light That makes the spirit feel bold. Empty pots start cooking and the village suddenly comes alive with a pride circulating sweet aroma in the heavenly places. The cooks came out with their big spoons and a recipes to be completed at noon. trotter foot bubbling in the pots while the rice curry and brown stew wears an indigenous skirt that is down to earth. Excitement is flaring in the air and there is much to share. I gazed among the crowd to see if there is anyone that I know and all of a sudden I hear someone one shout “Dr.Christine we are here we are coming to get you” I didn’t see the face but the voice was bellowing above the noise that was coming from the excited crowd. I recognize the voice and it was the voice of my student That lives in Switzerland as a refugee and obtain her citizenship, I stretched my neck to see if I could spot her but I could only See hands waving and people dancing around in their jubilant gown The men dance on the ground without shoes and the children gather around in small groups playing woola hoops and hopscotch without boots. I observed them for a while then I walked away with a smile They remind me of the days of my youth when I used to play in the yard without shoes, and as I moved around the crowd I could see Joy and some sadness taking a refreshing breath. Happy eyes and sad eyes stared at me reminiscing the solitude of their previous lives and lamenting their sons and daughters numerous sacrifice .They were not around to join in the celebration but their spirits were jubilant and they suddenly got up and join the dance and participate in the celebration. I sampled their food and taste all of their delicacy and waited in the middle and watched the celebration and everyone was looking happy. Suddenly someone touched me on the shoulder and when I looked around, Mahamabad from Kurdistan and her entourage Came to give me a helping hand, I was very happy to see her. She was not only my student but she was also a very good friend. She used to take me to places and introduced me to her village friends She also made nice dishes and shared them with me and her friends I often listened to her stories of war in the regions and her friends Who have gone before and every time I looked into her eyes it made me want to cry. She had to flee to Sweden for security reasons and the many Threat that was on her life but the news of Kurdistan independence Shed a new light on her situation she returned to her home town to celebrate the long awaited independence of Kurdistan, many of her classmates had died but Mahamabad was around to celebrate With the jubilant crowd .Kurdistan is her home town and the Villagers were waiting anxiously around to give her the crown.

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Driven by the forces around you driven by the forces behind you Driven by forces above you driven by forces beside you, driven by Forces all around you. The mouth is moving up and down but half of the story has not been told you travel half way around the world to have a dialogue behind the doors, the dessert are getting hot and the men are running around in frocks with their turbans waving in the air dancing around in a jubilant mood and everyone looking cool. I can recognize the music I rocked to it some years ago when I was living like a queen in the middle of the desert dreams. I see them waving flags and everyone is looking glad, they come from Sweden, Turkey and Germany to join their friends and family along the line. They descend upon the mountain and light the torch and dance on the dry grounds sprinkling rice grain around as a sign of fertility, and to resurrect their love ones from the dead. I could see the dead returning to life and all those who have Paid a painful sacrifice had a smile running across their faces And a passion that is filtering around in their head. All the dark places took on life and all the dark rooms were illuminated with bright lights, lights that penetrate and warm the souls, light That makes the spirit feel bold. Empty pots start cooking and the village suddenly comes alive with a pride circulating sweet aroma in the heavenly places. The cooks came out with their big spoons and a recipes to be completed at noon. trotter foot bubbling in the pots while the rice curry and brown stew wears an indigenous skirt that is down to earth. Excitement is flaring in the air and there is much to share. I gazed among the crowd to see if there is anyone that I know and all of a sudden I hear someone one shout “Dr.Christine we are here we are coming to get you” I didn’t see the face but the voice was bellowing above the noise that was coming from the excited crowd. I recognize the voice and it was the voice of my student That lives in Switzerland as a refugee and obtain her citizenship, I stretched my neck to see if I could spot her but I could only See hands waving and people dancing around in their jubilant gown The men dance on the ground without shoes and the children gather around in small groups playing woola hoops and hopscotch without boots. I observed them for a while then I walked away with a smile They remind me of the days of my youth when I used to play in the yard without shoes, and as I moved around the crowd I could see Joy and some sadness taking a refreshing breath. Happy eyes and sad eyes stared at me reminiscing the solitude of their previous lives and lamenting their sons and daughters numerous sacrifice .They were not around to join in the celebration but their spirits were jubilant and they suddenly got up and join the dance and participate in the celebration. I sampled their food and taste all of their delicacy and waited in the middle and watched the celebration and everyone was looking happy. Suddenly someone touched me on the shoulder and when I looked around, Mahamabad from Kurdistan and her entourage Came to give me a helping hand, I was very happy to see her. She was not only my student but she was also a very good friend. She used to take me to places and introduced me to her village friends She also made nice dishes and shared them with me and her friends I often listened to her stories of war in the regions and her friends Who have gone before and every time I looked into her eyes it made me want to cry. She had to flee to Sweden for security reasons and the many Threat that was on her life but the news of Kurdistan independence Shed a new light on her situation she returned to her home town to celebrate the long awaited independence of Kurdistan, many of her classmates had died but Mahamabad was around to celebrate With the jubilant crowd .Kurdistan is her home town and the Villagers were waiting anxiously around to give her the crown.