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 Oh, land of yearning, soil of the pandemic, Across your bereaved fields, a lone wanderer carries His tattered garment of helplessness, In his steps echoes the cry of the land that cannot comprehend him. Through your white villages, withered by time and forgetfulness, The divine vagabond leaves his unseen tracks, Heavy, laden with hopes, beneath the cross he bears, His laments murmur in the air between houses bitten by time. With a beggar's sack, poverty his cloak and miracles few within, He diligently gathers the child's smile, the morning dew, The tear of the old woman marooned on the threshold, While shadows of greedy ghosts spread over abandoned roads. With wind-like steps and a soul of song, His unsigned blessings fall upon fields and troubled hearts, In a profound silence, begging for light and peace, Today, through taverns and lanes, God wanders. It's an endless market of fates and sufferings, A field of bird song, who’ve forgotten their country, Oh, my land with beggars instead of vultures, with strangers instead of saints, Where God roams begging, with a forgetful man's sack through time. And standing watch over wildernesses and springs, He waits, in hiding, to see the soil catch new flames, To lift his children again from the heavy hoarfrost of the long night And for the tapestry of life to awaken, in songs of remembering and plentiful harvest, Oh, my land, your holy bones remain the seeds of tomorrow.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)