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 They write in the language of perfume flowery powdered words all layered colours rising and lowering in different light spectrums as if the reader could discern without wisened translator their seductive dimensions conveyed within their small larger other worlds notes upon notes, heady notes, their subtle infractions like music tinkling through the brain bleeds, poets and their otherworldly refrains, naphthalene aired for old time’s sake shaken out like clean crisp white sheets billowing in the translucent lingerie breeze, bedrocks shaken the little flocks small black murders flying provocatively erratic stirred up off the cobalt page into an evocative higher wider elusive space taken shockingly aback where the heady blast of Spirit of Hartshorn shakes buried lover’s awake to walk barefoot and naked blindly in love touching each other through the long wet days sugar-coated addictions tall poppies crimson pimpernels wading nubile through blades of silver moon grass licking their ankles and heels raising their prim outskirts, forbidden territories within the rising mist, the ever present, like a breeze, kisses their ripe cherry orchards unending hunger satiated, all is manna as they meander through daze of dusky dawn valleys those garden of eden thighs, the transparent, slithering like hands caressing treasure trunks ivy leaves for plucking further up above the high waists to touch what wastes away, unheard, what beats there, where the crown sits like some holy being under its ribbed cage red ripe like a seeded apple, that place, just there, beating singing some kind of hymn, like a regulated anthem, they're way up into their feels like some devilish chase like heaven's come calling them away They write in the language of perfume flowery powdered words all layered colours rising and lowering in different light spectrums as if the reader could discern without wisened translator their seductive dimensions some things are better left unsaid like this Magdalene, K.I.S.S. Candide Diderot. ‘24
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