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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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
The Median Death of the Red Delicious
“God bless us all when the door is shut behind us, only then will we breathe our first breath, and awake from the long dream…” Forging past the indisputable summit onto the shelf of the perfect medium (ah, ‘tis noble here!) he sits, contemplating his balance. He does not sweat. The winds breath breaks upon his predestined neck, bestowing the gift of lily white scent upon a lapel that’s stiff, yet pliable – just stiff enough. A 72 degree sun shines its neutrality, (fueling his desire for nothing at all, just the concept of sun giving heat, like a heartbeat, unnoticed in its certainty) upon his stagnant face. He is wearing his favorite pants (soft, worn jeans with a little give, but not enough so that he forgets to hold in his stomach), and from the ample pocket, he takes an apple. It is a Red Delicious. Not quite living up to its name, but unassuming and secure in its redness – he eats. It’s not the best apple he’s ever had, but its good enough. The vultures, native to this coveted desert waste circle, vying for the core of his Non-Delicious, yet edible fruit. And as he Bites into the last white taste of just fine, a glint of sunlight flashes briefly – like infinity within dreams, off of the vultures black eyes. And all at once he knows – everything is. The death birds orbit the terracotta desert peek (red and inviting in its dry and unforgiving reality), the bird turns away so fast after catching his eye, he forgets that he’d ever seen its pulsing recognition. The forgettable sunset mollifies him - sedates him, pacifying his every forgettable non-movement. It is then, when the last dripping light of day descends behind the obvious rock mount; the definite edge of darkness falls. Shadows creep slowly and quickly across the terrestrial rock spine, (engulfing its redness in its totality) leaving just the remnants of burgundy skin between yellowing teeth, and a deafening black desert. As the sound of raucous wings and ripping jeans dominates the guttural desert - the vultures take their coveted prize. *Reposted for Deborah's Something Wicked This Way Comes, Wickedness Contest. :)
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things