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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Running, dripping, or still; Life's a faucet, we’re a thirst, To never drink our fill. We drink and think We are immune to pain from one another, But brother, when it comes, The waterfall or shower towers each To block the sun. Into a depth of puddles we stare With all the wishes hearts forsake. While voices whisper From each rain for us to wake. All drops stop, then disappear, Take no side but reach our ear In long or shorter stride to touch The origin inside. The place from which no one can hide; The Hand that turns our faucet on or off. From caves to huts and soup to nuts, Each of us an entertainment, The scope of which directed by The compass of our choice. We have and hear a different voice, But it is our own we stretch Across this voided earth, Spiked with certain curtains and callings Our ceilings manufactured. These times are not newer Because there are fewer miles Of synapse between us. It is a small but constant distance From cheek to cuspidor And what is not expected Is expectorant on the floor As we walk into our slippers Through each shower of hours. Chapters of happiness layered With a faith that is guided by What we have been without. It is far more elegant to dress Our moments in what is missing Than dismissing the obvious For the want of more, Yet to stop is to become That which we were chasing. Our ears grow with age. While cold guides our fingers flattened rage. We can say what we will, turn the page, Or eat a pie, starting every bite with I. Who would be the wiser? What gains a penny whose face is proud And speaks aloud to the backside of a life? Follow or fallow It’s what we are made of; Harvesting hairs, split with indifferences Spilling from the mouths of babes, But Maybe baby, we just want to be held One more time before we go, While knowledge and understanding Come from the language of others. Each place or face is a foreign orb That we err or blur into a refinement. It is not a magic pencil but a crazy crayon From which the cartoons of our life are born. Oh Gabriel, come blow that horn!
Enter Author Name (Not Required)