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Greeting Card Maker | Poem Art Generator

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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The air, thick with the promise of the coming downpour, held a peculiar aura. Not the sharp, acrid tang of the approaching storm, but a subtle, almost ethereal perfume. A dampness, a coolness, a hint of earth, of decaying leaves, of something ancient and comforting. It clung to the air, a fine, invisible mist, a silent prelude. The impression, not a smell, but a feeling, whispered through the leaves, rustling in the branches, sighing through the reeds. A tremor of anticipation, a hushed expectancy. The world held its breath. A moment of suspended animation. Then, a single drop, like a tear from the sky, traced a glistening path down a blade of grass. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another! The rhythm quickened, a drumming on the roof. A deluge. And the impression changed. It deepened, becoming richer, more profound. Not just the earth, but the washed-clean stone of the riverbed, the dampened petals of wilting jasmine. The dampened asphalt had a peculiar, earthy sweetness. A memory, fleeting and profound, of childhood afternoons spent in the garden, the relentless drip, drip, drip of the rain, the damp cool air against the skin. A child's quiet joy. The presence of rain. It was more than an impression. It was a sigh of the earth, a whisper of the universe, a testament to life's relentless cycle of renewal.

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Tears of Sky

The air, thick with the promise of the coming downpour, held a peculiar aura. Not the sharp, acrid tang of the approaching storm, but a subtle, almost ethereal perfume. A dampness, a coolness, a hint of earth, of decaying leaves, of something ancient and comforting. It clung to the air, a fine, invisible mist, a silent prelude. The impression, not a smell, but a feeling, whispered through the leaves, rustling in the branches, sighing through the reeds. A tremor of anticipation, a hushed expectancy. The world held its breath. A moment of suspended animation. Then, a single drop, like a tear from the sky, traced a glistening path down a blade of grass. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another! The rhythm quickened, a drumming on the roof. A deluge. And the impression changed. It deepened, becoming richer, more profound. Not just the earth, but the washed-clean stone of the riverbed, the dampened petals of wilting jasmine. The dampened asphalt had a peculiar, earthy sweetness. A memory, fleeting and profound, of childhood afternoons spent in the garden, the relentless drip, drip, drip of the rain, the damp cool air against the skin. A child's quiet joy. The presence of rain. It was more than an impression. It was a sigh of the earth, a whisper of the universe, a testament to life's relentless cycle of renewal.