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 Taking use of a waterfly She merrily drifts on To a tired petty refuge... For the last time. The waterfly is gentle Beyond it's appearance. It's wings bellow A deep hum And it's ventriloquist eyes Are forever waiting beneath the sea. You lay a few cautious kisses Upon it's head. It's been so tedious over the years. So careful to go To each specific place. It's corpulent body Trembles in it's pace And carries you into A stronger current, Ignoring the ancient palace. Your curiosity fumbles With his golden reigns. He turns back Unwillingly. Strange. Strange that this old waterfly No longer knows his way. Strange, he seems Reluctent to obey. She strokes his weary head And they arrive at their destination. What a strange being. She wonders as she Searches his age old face Worn at the edges with Touches of silver splinters And water rust. Each crease and fold Holding more water Than the hungry path in which they travel. Don't go. Begging, Selfish, Incandescent, Loathing. Don't go. This is what his front Would say But it never makes it past his Studded, smooth, eroded teeth. She left. She walked below the bridge instead. She opened the door to the palace Where brave men no longer venture. She spots a cold dark woman With a veiled face and frowning brows. She wears a white familiar dress. All to familiar to the waterfly flyer. She stares at the eyes of the dangling woman. They protrude from her skull In a somewhat modest fashion, Like a prostitute, Avoiding the burns of the limelight. They devoured her face and Left her lips parted with slurred speech. The wedding march From a Midsummer Night's Dream Slowy churned on beneath the stifled murmurs. She heard murmurs. Her distant husband sat in a corner With three limpid bitter seas Tumbling from his green skies. He held a wrinkled, written prose Within his trembling hands. She left me her body, He cried. She always left me her body. And the waterfly fell silent.
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