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 The sun has gone to rest my babes I give you this last tale If only you will sleep my dears For you will I regale There was a man of great esteem In wild woods afar No one knew his given name They called him Mr. Tar They named him such for all his soul Which some thought black as night He lived amongst the demons… Said the papist who knew right He lived with demons, that is true Of this you can be sure Awhile I walked, he found me once And spoke about what’s pure “There’s isn’t nothing purity, No demons or good men There’s only here and nowhere Of these years now numbered ten. “I’ve never known a Saint, And I’ve known a many man My rotting soul sees further Then the beggar with his can.” “Oh how,” said I.”How do you live? With hate like I now see The rumors must be true, Yes, you’re the monster in the tree.” “Trees,” said he and grinning wide “I have a many friend. They aren’t kind to most But they don’t mean to offend.” “Will they hunt me?” Said I trembling. “They aren’t lions He replied. “They aren’t simple beings As the common man’s becried “No their business is much simpler They aren’t animals at all And they wish that man would notice Just how far from God he falls.“ Sleep well my babes, Fear not, for wicked tar’s unseemly thrall There aren’t any trees From which to bid you come and fall. Dream happily, Dream without fit Dream quiet things of light But know that Mr. Tar Is not the one in need of right. That man is man, and wicked They aren’t animals at all. They can’t be blamed for bidding You’re to blame for every fall.
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