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 Calloused canvas, etched with sun and rain, A map of toil, where muscles speak their pain. No crown adorns it, nor scepter's gilded shine, But in its grip, a legacy entwines. Not pharaohs' monuments, nor empires vast, But fields that nourish, homes that rise at last. Bricks laid true, with sweat for mortar's hold, A city's pulse, in stories yet untold. No artist's brush, nor poet's lyric grace, But hammers tapping, leaving their own trace. Steel forged and shaped, with fire's ardent kiss, A symphony of sparks, where dreams don't miss. Not ruler's scepter, nor scholar's quill, But thread spun fine, with patient, practiced skill. Garments woven, warmth against the cold, A mother's love, in stitches neatly told. No warrior's blade, nor priest's anointed hand, But seeds that sprout, at farmer's wise command. Land nurtured, yielding life anew, A cycle's dance, beneath a sky so blue. No sculptor's chisel, nor architect's grand plan, But tools that mend, held by a steady hand. Machines repaired, with rhythmic, whirring hum, A world kept turning, never truly numb. Not surgeon's scalpel, nor teacher's guiding pen, But streets swept clean, where children play again. Invisible threads, that bind a community, A hand unseen, yet vital, you can see. So raise your gaze, beyond the gilded frame, To hands that build, the ones without a name. For in their toil, a nation's spirit thrives, A tapestry of labour, where humanity survives.
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