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 Marcus Mosiah Garvey arose from a little town, yes my lord A Leo lifting Harlem, kingdom bound, yes my lord Resuscitated religion around the black man’s looks, yes my lord Cuddling pickaxe, hoe, and cradling books, yes my lord Umpire of Freedom from home to foreign land, yes my lord Seeker of justice from Costa Rica, Nicaragua to Panama, man, yes, yes my lord Master of the African destiny, this man could dream, yes my lord Overtures of empire, black starliner on the Atlantic stream, yes my lord Sentinel and soldier, O Booker T’s light giver, yes my lord Itinerant leader from island to continents, the diviner, yes my lord Athletic word maker speaking truth to power, yes O my lord Sequester again the UNIA at this defining hour, yes my lord. Greatness is sometimes attributed, sometimes achieved, yes my lord Africa’s proud son, both in you we believed, yes my lord Regal was the call you made: “Up you mighty race!” yes my lord Venerable the acts you did standing to the governor’s face, yes my lord Earth has no better soul, or Jamaica another child, yes O my lord Yielding everything to heal the lambs defiled, yes, yes my lord How shall we see again the great black visions of grandeur, yes my lord Evoking in cultureless voids Africa’s splendor, yes my lord Royalty reduced to slavery would not crawl the dust, yes my lord Once liberated minds can fly where only eagles lust, yes my lord We heap up your tributes now that your dead, yes my lord England’s queen can sleep without a dungeon for her bed, yes my lord Men who dream are imprisoned to bury their dreams, yes my lord Instead those dreams prove finite walls too poor, yes my lord Superior imagination to tame, and brighter still gleams, yes my lord So when the wind blows look for him at the door, yes my lord Yapping Hoover at his heels lied on him to stall him, yes my lord Over in Jamaica, he broke the walls of prison grim, yes my lord Uncle Marcus, great hero, O how we miss him, yes, yes O my lord
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