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 "A melody whispers through the trees in the Autumnal season. A colorful song, a sing along, and nature's beauty is the reason." ~ by poet In the night, a mellow mist softly veiled verdant meadows, and over valleys it hailed. But in dawning skies, sunshine prevailed. His golden rays warmed the lands, and it was trusted to him for safe keeping. Leaves rustled from gentle winds sweeping as willow branches began their weeping. Autumnal changes made many demands. Tree limbs are bare in this season of the year. They seem to be desolately sad and drear as though gloomy, in mourning they appear. In a flux of malaise is a grove of elms. Pumpkins are being harvested in fields. Maize and wheat crops giving abundant yields. Scythes, the tools, the farmer now wields. With a chromatic palette, Autumn overwhelms. Upon heavy boughs, ripened apples teeter. The early harvest produces those much sweeter. These things I see and write in poetic meter. I see migratory birds flapping their wings. Daylight dims much sooner in this season. Mother Nature's calendar is the reason the night air has a chill that I find quite pleasin.' What breathtaking landscapes, Autumn brings. Shades of crimson, burnt umber and gold covers hillsides with hues so strikingly bold. Blazing, like flames of fire, the colors unfold. The scent of oak woodsmoke fills the air. Keats' 'To Autumn,' speaks of "swelling the gourd." Squirrels are scurrying to collect acorns to hoard, and we'll have a feast in thanksgiving to our Lord. Autumnal glory has a vivid flare beyond compare.
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