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 At night in dreams, he learns to fly; Soars high in open skies. The feeling of euphoria: To catch a warming rise. But then one day he finds an edge; A dome does all surround. Constraining flight, his freedom too, It arches to the ground. Soon he discovers it’s a trap; He’s in this lofty jail, And knowing that the heights are capped, No longer yearns to sail. He tries to fly up high enough; Escape is at the top? But always there’s a ceiling there, All exploration stops. And worse, there’s running down below To where he’s going to land; They mean to make an end of him, Just as his feet touch sand. And then he’s running for his life; His legs don’t seem to work. He’s thrashing, and he’s crying out In fear and half berserk. He screams and screams to wake his wife But doesn’t make a sound, And finally, the moans and kicks Arouse her, bring her ‘round. She shakes him by the shoulders firm, Makes sure that he’s awake; Then turns to face the other way, And sleep soon overtakes. For him, the night is full of fear; He’s shaking, soaking wet. He hasn’t a way out of here; He’s caught within this net. The dream repeats most every night; He’s haggard, and he’s worn. The nightmares always end the same; He’s bleeding, tattered, torn. This vicious loop goes on for years; He’s weary in his soul, He hasn’t yet connected dots On why he’s in this hole. In desperation, he cries out, The nightmares finally quit. The Lord, it seems, had heard his cries And pulled him from the pit. No longer dark, my dreams of late. The night; no longer dread. And now, I do not need to fly; I've found true rest instead.
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