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 we … sat here once … so long ago it’s a dream - a mirage of another life, like a desert’s distant, fiery fog … we were brine, I, salt to your water - churning surf that broke upon another - that reef … HER, (your bestie - my paramour) … we three, dangling lazily in the summer doldrums, filling empty space awaiting the pending promises of autumn. but now, we are ripples, expanding - outward … away - yesterday’s onerous ache … the echo of three young fools in a whirlwind, spun from the high fells to the heathered meadows, from the meadows to the ocean’s toothy hem, from that jagged break to an abyss, unforgiving … where those moments, those dear, precious, idiotic instances - callow, quick and careless - are now and forever … drowned. yet … I remember your wit, (a woman’s wit, tho’ just a girl) - its bloom AND its blade - oft’ to coax a smile, but also, ever prowling for a miscalculation, ready to pounce … I close my eyes and recall the honey of her lips, and what hid beneath the short-sleeve tickle of cashmere, how my eager hands, like Braille, could not read her enough - never enough … how the candy of her mouth was like melting sugar, and how the odd trio we comprised - the twined, chaotic tensions - always hung there, obvious but oblique, like mistletoe left … until May. now … eyes opened, I say a word-or-two, toss the mental wreath, (roses withered), dust the illusory ashes, pull a long breath deeply IN, and blow it out hard - hard enough to make ripples on the water’s moonlit surface - or, perhaps … they came from below, bubbles of a gasp … the last gulp of our trio’s torrid, tender memory, giving up the ghost … to the deep.
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