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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.

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I have gazed long at the turbulent while piled high cloud masses I have watched the millions of stars at night the damp fog has come and surrounded me and the land is silent the fresh rain has laved my face while the wind blew warmly. I receive no message from these for humankind but hear only their message to me; for they awaken the wonder that is in me in addition, the yeaning that is the depth of my soul. They do not tell me to scatter my words through the world like seeds rather, they say, Behold! be of us and wing out beyond the world forever and in my soul the deep yearning pleads for the fulfillment of its' aching desire to go with the sun, moon and the stars and seek with them the answer to eternity. But still the clouds, ebon faced, mass against the fiery red rays of the setting sun the stars, far distant, in space, still glitter brightly in the patterns the fog, white by day, grey by night moves yet noiselessly on, giving intimacy to near things, and strangeness to those looming on the edge of vision the rain falls yet too, cleansing and releasing the perfume of the wet earth. So I write letting the words of my unrest go freely where they would for each word is deflection from the longing within me of all the voices I must heed and may not. However, I cannot write in the dark I cannot write as I stand on the hill gazing yet the yearning is there most of all therefore! I say aloud, convincingly "It is only lovely" to wander on through the night and day and the years.

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The Poet

I have gazed long at the turbulent while piled high cloud masses I have watched the millions of stars at night the damp fog has come and surrounded me and the land is silent the fresh rain has laved my face while the wind blew warmly. I receive no message from these for humankind but hear only their message to me; for they awaken the wonder that is in me in addition, the yeaning that is the depth of my soul. They do not tell me to scatter my words through the world like seeds rather, they say, Behold! be of us and wing out beyond the world forever and in my soul the deep yearning pleads for the fulfillment of its' aching desire to go with the sun, moon and the stars and seek with them the answer to eternity. But still the clouds, ebon faced, mass against the fiery red rays of the setting sun the stars, far distant, in space, still glitter brightly in the patterns the fog, white by day, grey by night moves yet noiselessly on, giving intimacy to near things, and strangeness to those looming on the edge of vision the rain falls yet too, cleansing and releasing the perfume of the wet earth. So I write letting the words of my unrest go freely where they would for each word is deflection from the longing within me of all the voices I must heed and may not. However, I cannot write in the dark I cannot write as I stand on the hill gazing yet the yearning is there most of all therefore! I say aloud, convincingly "It is only lovely" to wander on through the night and day and the years.