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 HE: I felt so alive for a minute there. The moonlight struck your face. Beauty fired my senses, arousing. SHE: Tell me, I need to know you care. HE: What will that tell you, what will it mean? What you already know? Or a dubious ambivalence that you cannot face? SHE: You think we move too fast, I know. Pieces tearing away from us in blurring slipstreams? Would they strip us to the bones of unknown futures? Things we cannot sustain? Would such velocity deny you grip of your own personality. I wouldn’t ask that of you… HE: Who knows what you would or would not ask of me if we don’t stop to think? To drink the air after rainfall, to watch the moonlight reflect in your tears, sweet silvered orbs of mountain dew. The savour of your essence, languid integration, development of a degree of certainty – barriers against pain and despair. SHE: My tears? You mention my tears. My tears drawn from the well of your own sinking, buckets dipped in rupturing premature graves. The dagger plunge of reticence; failure to tell me of love; to say yes, come on, let’s go – and damn consequence. To hell with consequence. Tell me… HE: Truthfully I am unsure of what to tell you. I hesitate to express it. I think, yes, I am in love with you…but do I love you? It’s early…too early… SHE: I want to speed. I want to race. To run, shouting with adulation of you in rapture of your adoration for me. I want to move, fast, the way you moved against my flesh when needs must, when passion, lust, jawed and scavenged your will and rammed it against my bleeding feminine surrender. Time is wasting. Why can you not move fast? HE: Fast? Faster than the rush of eroticism and it’s frantic tumult? Why, because the danger lies in reality and its fickle machinations. And it is this: we need to pace ourselves, for love, like the nature of existence itself, cannot be hurtled towards or through or against. Cynical it may sound, but neither is built to last, and neither are we. Each moment damns us by its intricacy You are…you are really crying now…I see… SHE: Men!
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