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 morning sun hovers coyly behind broad shoulders of the John Crow Mountain before unwrapping petals of fever plant and Venice. Mama’s countenance was far contrast to one so radiant, so when the old Leyland bus went shuddering along gravel road the first beams break through pinewood forest. The old New Hampshire Red was up last night, bamboozled by the plump moon, but all was still in the petite hours ‘fore daybreak. His first boast was far too late; Banties have already blown their tops, and warm rays long ago penetrated rabbit fence. Leghorns proudly announced fresh eggs. Beds were unoccupied and unmade. Voices came, children in euphoria; oppressors were off to nine to five. Nightingale sang an encore before morning forage, and gaiety commences. Brown skinned pickneys, like the color of the Balaclava clay, with reflections of innards on innocuous visages. The hoopla lived until the Leyland snaked along treacherous drop and the sun hastened to avoid mama’s air. Chores rushed, and mama voice ruined our names. Tomorrow, at first light, we will be children again. Most of us have heard of lands where dogs licked their humans’ faces and are driven about in carriages in nappies, while we loathe our predicament some counterparts wrestle in grown-ups’ arenas; innocence lost to palm wine and brown-brown, and blood moves consciences far less than September’s rain. Will tomorrow’s shoots be allowed to be children, delightful progenies? Let the bright sun shine on Columbia, Cambodia, Guatemala, and Sierra Leone.
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