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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Under The Tree Where The Bodies Hang
Under the tree where the bodies hang swaying, dancing in the gelid breeze neath their rotting toes, the children sang; slow circling a boy; they taunt and tease. "It's your father and your mother, too," they chant, as one, fiery eyes aglow, "Who dance on the rope, and soon will you." to the cadence of a cawing crow. "We'll slice you up and cook us a stew." the chant gets faster. Each takes a knife "Then we'll boil your bones and make some glue." thirteen stabs put an end to a life. They braise the boy, then each they follow from dark black cauldron upon a fire; of steaming stew, they take a swallow; each with each other, they now conspire. "We sliced you up and cooked us a stew." the singing slows as the children fill "And no one cares because no one knew." soon, sleep takes over the early thrill. Wolf was waiting on the edge of dark thirteen children who once danced and sang become just a stain, a bloody mark; under the tree where the bodies hang.
Copyright © 2025 Terry Miller. All Rights Reserved

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry