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 She lived beside the old temple that has stood For years on the rocky bank of the silent river Flowing all through the lining greenery cover , The woods and the arable land rich and good ; Years ago she was the landlady ruler, across The several hamlets, who doled out for free What they asked for -grains, clothes in a spree And never cared for the end - gain nor the loss It was an abrupt outbreak, an epidemic dreary, That effaced the strugglers picking by lot ; The good landlord was the first to be caught ; For no cause, nor reason he became weary; Leaving behind his suffering soul sans a child And all his countless riches for her to cherish , He finished his spell with no joy, so to perish Alas ! the fate what else could be so ,so wild..! There were mixed feelings and selfish amity When the folk got more than what they sought Coaxing the lady with ease and plea distraught Soon she was homeless, yet in sound sanity, Serving unbiasedly, the destitute, needy poor Beyond all her ability and resource limit But never was there a lapse nor any null remit As the noble soul dwelt on healing their sore Decades elapsed since, but for no change; A slight cry of suffering reaches her soon : And she rushes to them be it night or noon ; None forgets that she is on the eighty range Oh God! how strange are these facets of life! While some chase far, the void and the futile, Ever seeking somehow just their needs vile, Noble beings but breathe for those in strife. On the dismal day --- recall the rustics around, She was carried away by the floods too wild, As she tried and saved a drowning child , But lost her stance to the unsparing ground; Hue and cry ,and searches wide found her not ; A lamp is lit on the chosen day on her door sill And many offer their prayers thereabout still : More for favours than in memory of the spot.
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