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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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Oh Gettysburg, your battle flags lie charred beneath the corps that stormed the blue abyss. A fence of stone has marked the final yard where vanquished legions vanished in the mist. As cannon fire consumed the summer sky, it scorched the winds that scattered each brigade. A final yard, your chronicles decry, had crushed their will to win the great crusade. The tides of war have rolled upon this land as fallen brothers perished in its wake, to stand as one this Nation must demand, its battle fallen; time shall not forsake. As winds of death come wafting through the pine on placid currents drifting through the field, brigades of spirits haunt the battle line where cannons forced their flesh and bone to yield. Each call to arms, in charge and failed retreat, seemed endless in the swelter of sun, for those who pledged to not concede defeat would forfeit to the fury of the gun. As agony fell quiet from the blaze, their lamentations moaned beyond the clash, the mystic plumes, ascending through the haze, were silent souls arising from the ash. Oh Gettysburg, your name shall ring of war. With reverence, we whisper you in prayer. In eulogy, we’ll hail forevermore our Nation’s unknown soldiers harbored there. July 2018

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Ashes of Gettysburg

Oh Gettysburg, your battle flags lie charred beneath the corps that stormed the blue abyss. A fence of stone has marked the final yard where vanquished legions vanished in the mist. As cannon fire consumed the summer sky, it scorched the winds that scattered each brigade. A final yard, your chronicles decry, had crushed their will to win the great crusade. The tides of war have rolled upon this land as fallen brothers perished in its wake, to stand as one this Nation must demand, its battle fallen; time shall not forsake. As winds of death come wafting through the pine on placid currents drifting through the field, brigades of spirits haunt the battle line where cannons forced their flesh and bone to yield. Each call to arms, in charge and failed retreat, seemed endless in the swelter of sun, for those who pledged to not concede defeat would forfeit to the fury of the gun. As agony fell quiet from the blaze, their lamentations moaned beyond the clash, the mystic plumes, ascending through the haze, were silent souls arising from the ash. Oh Gettysburg, your name shall ring of war. With reverence, we whisper you in prayer. In eulogy, we’ll hail forevermore our Nation’s unknown soldiers harbored there. July 2018