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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My muse is a poetic flower garden, blooming lilacs in barren meadows, but I still remember how I heeded haunting heartbeats in paradise, whilst praying for your lustrous light, to descend onto my hazy horizons. Your eyes like captivating sunsets, made me dream away, recalling shells lost in a forgotten coral reef, castaway upon an elusive island, where the paths have no name, but the oceanic breeze calls yours so softly. I was killing time, scribbling elegies on distant musical shores, where spotted eagle rays and flying fish were my only mentors. Nocturnal reef sharks unfolded tales beneath lonesome skies, illustrating a secretive stairway that would lead me to the scintillating stars. Deep within my heart, I knew in the darkest night you are the light that would illuminate my breathless sighs with blazing ballads rewriting my fate, reawakening my need to thrive through these endless melancholic monsoons; surfing through vast oceans. Your cosmic radiance pulled this chocolate mermaid, from the bioluminescent ripples of sorrow, empathising with endless streams from my volcanic mind and harmonious heart, which was in dire need of healing, from draconian depleted ideologies imprinted within a labyrinth of narcissistic daffodils, emanating deceptive fragrances resembling the devil's disciple, claiming me as nothing, but a mere self confessed queen on a conquest to conquer the uncontrollable calling to a land of virtual hypocrisy. If only they knew I no longer desired to rule a kingdom of tumultuous pretense. I was waiting for the return of the butterflies, tearing apart the fragile walls of its cocoon. I knew if Romeo did not die, I would be living Juliet's desires. I was a poetess searching for a purpose, with no sense to shelter, watching the last icicle of winter melt away. Truth deserves a narrative that has no ending, though I question the universe. Where do the lost poets reside? Is it where the moon chooses to hide, disguising dreariness within dazzling blankets of dancing moonscapes, or will this be how this sleepless soul seizes its faultless lunar tide?
Enter Author Name (Not Required)