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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As usual frozen seagulls fly above us every night, blind I approach our bed in the darkness, tracing the linear surfaces of the embroidery, as their long-winged spans shadow the pillow mounds. The salty residue found on your lips, Falls off as you ask me the time. Late, very late, almost too late, sorry, The journey back was longer than I planned. The space beside you invites me into its pools. In a slow shift and quicken foothold, with exact measure you leave me a gap, you fit me into your crevasses. The small of your back is damp and curving, heat emanates under the wraps of your limbs your steady breath has sudden flutters. I sweep into our soft warm nest, below the folding sheets and the crested mounds, valleys of our flesh, cotton and blue silk Twist in the ebb, the back and forth of the tide. Full of longing I steal a long caress under and up your back, awoken in my current you harshly pull my hand, twisting it to the back of the rafter’s edge, I curve into your rising waves as you turn, your heat is released into the cold air around us. The stone walls begin to glisten with our breath, Beneath us, the ocean becomes disturbed Unable to swim, we gasp for air and float. Every limb is occupied with a particular task In perfect rhythm within our fabric island we bathe in the hot moisture of the foam. As the waves start to sing in low steady pitch, our stretched hands caress the shore over and over as a poetry of colours explode in my head, and as you surface, mariner conquered. I taste the salt in your skin, prying away, into separate space to catch the last molecule of air. Full of guilty laughter we gather the tossed garments. Fogged up the glass, we loose hold on the compass, sailing past shipwrecks and other lost voyagers, tucked under the covers again before the heat dissipates, together on our journey.
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Book: Shattered Sighs