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 On the edge of silence beyond mossy-muffled stone walls a wind chime chants—faint like falling sparkles of stars; honeyed musings of a wind-spirit on the move, west to east a bridge of broken chords. Cosmic animation stirs my domestic pulsation. In a supple sweep from beyond the western dusk, soft notes jangle in sweet saunter— so like you, an angel’s riff on an airy whiff. O wind chanter, I hear your chimes as I linger in undying love for him …yes I hear you, singer! Sing to me of his approach! For alone, on the cold stone of a lifeless dusk, I mourn the most. Like a moth vibrating around the lantern’s glow, I feel the brush of his touch amid breezy flutters; flirtations with a long blonde tress and the white frills of my nightdress. O bittersweet enchantment! O wild yet tender wind—O embracing visitor! But how do I hold you? How do I hold the wind, my love? Always! Always! You slip away on blank paper wings! My human nature aspires to fly but my every heartbeat; rib-caged. Ironclad in mortal armor. Obliged to the grasp of gravity’s greed. Damn the bane of my spirit’s capture and love’s coupled yoke that did not die with you! Damn the bane of my lifeblood bound to its artery stream bed! Though my lovelorn river pulses with throbs of a tide robbed not even a river’s rapture can compete with the thrills of your unbound freedom— oh death’s freedom! The ringing sleigh-bell singing of spring peepers intrudes O wind chanter, distant wind chime, your tinsel talk fades. He is lost to me again— Lost! Lost lost….
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