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 The window lets in an odd solitary ray of light, Of timid color, a cusp between twilight and night. It lands hesitatingly on the golden tip of my pen, and then blasts into the iris of my eye, half open. Startled, I squint but soon realise its but a reminder, That the affairs of the day, I should soon surrender, And be on my way, to the place I call home, For it'll be a few hours of a tiring roam, Through the gentle gloam before I can see its dome. ‘No, no, it’s too early,’ I grievingly mutter. As I try to gather the notes scattered asunder, From a pale and oft molested whiteboard, To weave them into a crisp, meaningful report. One that I must present in the new-born morn, Not sleepy eyed, to eagle eyed executives of power, Attired smart, in a confident and assured tone, Their queries must I field, without a cower. It had ripped me from my sleep, the phone, With its unrelenting wail at dawn, At it again, with a sweet jingle and a message lone, With goosebumps, on me it does finally dawn, That I will be a prisoner of my chair until dawn. I shake and then scratch my head; i blink and then close my eyes, It’s too much to cram in too short a time, they cry. I slam my fists and then take a deep breath, to let those fumes of anger dissipate, and let my fingers dance on the plastic array of alphabets. At half past ten, with my eyes heavy and swollen, I decide to reclaim what’s left of the day, And be on my way, to the place I call home, For it'll be a few hours of a tiring roam Through the rainy night before I can see its dome. Its half past two, before I hit the bed, With the after taste of a hastily devoured supper, in my mouth, I steal a quick glance at the screen, out of habit, With a frown, I shake and then scratch my head, No revert yet, on the 'urgent' report. Four hours hence, the phone wails again, Jolted from my sleep, I blink and then rub my eyes, ‘Sorry, but could you stop by a bit early?’ he prays, In despair, I rip me from my sleep, to begin yet another day.
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