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 Mirabella had a big garden of pretty Azaleas and towards moon she started a tap dance, showing her ballerina dress made by Chris; young boys came around and stole a glance! What was the secret that made her so glamorous and famous? What did Mirabella have to deserve admiration and hundreds of claps? Follow me and I'll tell you a great story, her incredible beauty charmed tall and handsome Harry instantly; they met on the breezy Amalfi Bay; he wasn't very young, a friendly guy with a head full of aging grey... and he came from Montreal! No woman was lovelier than Mirabella when she was laughing; it must been the Neapolitan sunshine on her sun-tanned cheeks, it must have been the mandolin's hard trap beats that raised her young blood as she began singing! And Harry couldn't help smiling and throwing another flower, she became the undying flame of a true soldier's heart; and that flame burned until the war was finally over: would he forget her and let their feelings turn into dust? He took one step forward and whispered with the firmest voice, " I've made a promise more truthful than I've made to any girl, wait for me and don't count days, or nights, not even once: have faith in me: because tomorrow is a wish I can fulfill! " And Mirabella remembers her sweetheart who's too far away and cries by the dull garden of withered flowers looking over the foaming sea where dreams are created; do they soar faster than the boldest eagles, or do they end in misery before midday?
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