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 At 13, I used old tissue paper to craft my best friend her wedding veil— a drapery, thrown together in a flurry, taping together parchment scraps, fragile and pale. I ripped my old notes to craft her a crown, to set atop her wind-braided brown mane. The night before, I spun a construction paper bouquet that, by four that evening, had wilted away. She did not want to marry, so we chased her in our childish way, laughing and breathless, the sky raw and filled with embers. The grass, like hay, yellowed as the heat stitched our skin— We and our bride lay spry, soaked in our own September dew. Under the mess of matted curls, over those childish features, I saw the rouge appear from running around the bleachers. Pink with exhaustion, we found a blink of shade under the slender web of branches, meeting the boy with a smile as soft as the leaves—gentle and tender. From the dying sycamore, we conjured white arches, took the paper rings I had learned to fold. In the marshes, we cleaned our muddy shoes, and the boy in the collared shirt took her hand to hold. After, in the fifteen minutes left of our feast on the golden sun, we spent our time losing all that we had in the mud— our knees sinking into the moist earth, searching for bugs. Our parchment flowers—crumpled. Two paper rings—lost in a stumble. And her veil—taken by the last mumble of summer.
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