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 the photo graphic, 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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A Rose In The Heather.
So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather, Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness, So fragile is this rose laying in heather, Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder, I look at you and see this rose ever fading, Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings, But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust, I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather, For your beauty surpasses its own, So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather, Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories, So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather, Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals, I look at you and remember the flower when it faded, That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed, Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope, I would never compare you to this old heather and roses, For its life was surpassed by yours, Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather, Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming, This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you, But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight, I look at you now and see the love I sought inward, Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself, But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside, I could never combine your world with mine, You always looked passed never noticing me, Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of chance, Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing, That never could I fear, I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted, But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.
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