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 I'm an enlightened equinox, strolling in faded universe, dreaming poetry in susurrus serenades of rustling ruby-leaves which whisper cool beamish hues to my autumnal- quartz heart, when the nucleus of unborn flowers, wishes for a meditative musing amidst this mocha season of transforming dialects. But, why do I ricochet as a metallic sonder in this diamond decade, is today's forlorn fall a resurfacing darkness that's restricting my dewy palms from bleeding claret streaks of emotional efflorescence? What if this woollen russet-scarf is an emerald seraphine noose for my smoked existence? I dream of poetry as a maple moonbow, where, I'm the glare of ageless stardust, scattering mulberry mizzle of healing hymns and splashing rose-gold mists across those pastel phosphenes of fated dolence; trying to unlock time's ebony chambers, sequined with ebbulient gems. But, only if every mercuric wing of heaven were as distilled as the brightest loyal feather of liquefied light, would I still find myself erasing own name from the galactic ruins, written as a nebulous naivety of victimised hearts? I dream of poetry, as a bioluminescent throne bejeweled with aqua-florets, floating on cyan tides like a cream-blue pearl, swinging in sun-struck embrace as tuscan rays kiss the lustre of sea-green marmoris. Albeit my wails, O hibernated watercolours, why did you leave the cashmere canvas of my dreary jungles and blanket me in butterfly-stars of lemon-yesteryears, where my intuition echoes beneath the opal anthem of sakura-metaphors, spiralling in silence of sea-maiden's soul? I wonder if, I'm an earthling ash, planting flowers as irenic trouvailles across maroon meadows, when skeletal skies sail in the onyx omen of scattered fossils, above my calligraphic dreams of graceful poesy and juxtaposition of life stares like a blood-cloaked scarecrow, below peridot seas. Perhaps, smiles of bougainvillea too have plastered symphonies and broken secrets, which they exhale in their final rufescent rupture. I'm just a lonely sequoia tree, draped in honeysuckle hiatus, having no fervent faith as my dulcet ozone has depleted into granules of grieving gulfs, and I have clasped hollow hues of helium in the labyrinth of shallow lungs, so that teal thistles don't gravitate me into the eclipsed casket, dividing divine intervention within fractions of fractured dawns.
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