Home » Poems » Poetry Art » Poetry Art / Greeting Card Maker

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.

Text
Layout
Background

Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required
I hardly brew coffee alongside the metaphor of English mornings blended with summer’s febrile breath. But, on this occasion, I did.... It was a stifling moment on television. The social media was abuzz with the hiss of Integrated journalism. I hated this moment I failed to believe myself Upon the altar of this recent toponym. BREXIT. The name plinks with resounding voices, exerting that energy of Political consciousness. Lexicographers must hasten it into the dictionary Before the return of Christ. Must be cooked in the crucible of NOUN and Heavily spiced in VERB.... And then, play host to nimieties. It’s plainly a matter of exiting the circumference of a common, dancing market, Where freedom of movement spins the web of twinkle-toed arachnids. My coffee whiffed with the Brazilian hegemony Upon the Indian scheme of teas and secular drams of rum, And Iran’s love for green tea. Summer’s mornings are difficult, I must remind you. Waking from the posts of work and a bivouac Stretches the eyelids beyond groggy eyelashes With the haste of a speeding dawn. But the TRUTH remained salient and voluble: BRITAIN HAS VOTED TO LEAVE THE EU. And it’s not a hypnagogic matter. It has no business with amphigoric journalism. It’s a British-fried piece of truth. Are you kidding me? I find it totally execrable when people say what they do not know, Rather than ask what they do not know. Sunday Times spread its pages to annex some truth. So did The New York Times and Washington Post and the Community of tabloids – all tried to Squeeze out the sprinkles of the matter from collapsing firths. There was no trace of Churchill in this BREXIT fiesta. Even de Gaulle exuded remedies of a fractured Europe; he remembered The WAYWARD WAR, whose frenetic winds blew us no good. My coffee, black and gold, with the supple bubbles and yellow froths, Welcomed the degree of weather forecasting. Will it rain? Will there be isolated thunderstorms across the EU? Will BREXIT brew some heat? Slanting showers? What Celsius does a degree reach before there’s a Pandemonium? DID YOU MEAN POUND-EMONIUM? HAVEN’T YOU HEARD ABOUT THE CRASH OF THE POUND?

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

Color:

Main/Poem Text

Color:

Layout: TallShort

www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry

Brexit

I hardly brew coffee alongside the metaphor of English mornings blended with summer’s febrile breath. But, on this occasion, I did.... It was a stifling moment on television. The social media was abuzz with the hiss of Integrated journalism. I hated this moment I failed to believe myself Upon the altar of this recent toponym. BREXIT. The name plinks with resounding voices, exerting that energy of Political consciousness. Lexicographers must hasten it into the dictionary Before the return of Christ. Must be cooked in the crucible of NOUN and Heavily spiced in VERB.... And then, play host to nimieties. It’s plainly a matter of exiting the circumference of a common, dancing market, Where freedom of movement spins the web of twinkle-toed arachnids. My coffee whiffed with the Brazilian hegemony Upon the Indian scheme of teas and secular drams of rum, And Iran’s love for green tea. Summer’s mornings are difficult, I must remind you. Waking from the posts of work and a bivouac Stretches the eyelids beyond groggy eyelashes With the haste of a speeding dawn. But the TRUTH remained salient and voluble: BRITAIN HAS VOTED TO LEAVE THE EU. And it’s not a hypnagogic matter. It has no business with amphigoric journalism. It’s a British-fried piece of truth. Are you kidding me? I find it totally execrable when people say what they do not know, Rather than ask what they do not know. Sunday Times spread its pages to annex some truth. So did The New York Times and Washington Post and the Community of tabloids – all tried to Squeeze out the sprinkles of the matter from collapsing firths. There was no trace of Churchill in this BREXIT fiesta. Even de Gaulle exuded remedies of a fractured Europe; he remembered The WAYWARD WAR, whose frenetic winds blew us no good. My coffee, black and gold, with the supple bubbles and yellow froths, Welcomed the degree of weather forecasting. Will it rain? Will there be isolated thunderstorms across the EU? Will BREXIT brew some heat? Slanting showers? What Celsius does a degree reach before there’s a Pandemonium? DID YOU MEAN POUND-EMONIUM? HAVEN’T YOU HEARD ABOUT THE CRASH OF THE POUND?