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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
David's Lament For Abasolom
DAVID’S LAMENT (FOR ABSALOM) What voice is that beneath the wild thorn trees, Where birds go up and broken branches swing? Ah, words out of a dead mouth cannot reach The ears of a waiting king! And the frightened mule runs on alone, Oh, Absalom, my son, my son! Behold! And what a vision here I see Before the frightened animal is met– A figure hangs upon a tree, With head befouled and bloody yet! And the frightened mule runs on alone Oh, Absalom, my son, my son! It is a dreadful thing to lose A son and heir so featured and so young, And were it given me a head to choose Mine own beneath that bough was hung! But the frightened mule runs on alone, Oh, Absalom, my son, my son! Let him who thinks this death were somehow fair, Let him give over kith and kin To dangle upright by a hair And be an awful plaything to the wind! And the frightened mule runs on alone, Oh, Absalom, my son, my son! I see the coming ages yet unborn Where kings from out my house take their stride– And all within are capped by a crown of thorn And bloodied at the side! But the frightened mule runs on alone, Oh, Absalom, my son, my son!
Copyright © 2024 Jack Peachum. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things