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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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
A Dryad's Tale
One day while passing by a tree, I heard a sigh. It seemed the oak could speak; I felt my knees go weak, for like a siren’s song, his whisper made me long to stop and lay me down upon his shaded ground. Because the day was hot, I lingered at that spot. The oak got in my mind because I felt inclined to slip out of my dress, and yes, I must confess it was as if that tree had cast a spell on me! With words of poetry, he started wooing me. His leaves then brushed my skin. I trembled deep within. His branches were so lush, I hoped I would not blush to think each sturdy limb might draw me up to him. I don’t know how or why, but under summer’s sky I disappeared into his essence and I knew the tree had captured me. His wood nymph I would be, for he and I were one that day beneath the sun. As if immortal, now I live beneath his bough; at times I disappear within him, but no fear lives in me any more because the forest floor I roam now with great joy; the woodland is my home! Beneath the firmament, lost in my oak tree’s scent, I feel completely free, his beauty all I see. A young maid passes by; perhaps she hears us sigh and thinks it but the breeze now passing through the trees. But no, it is but I, beneath the summer sky locked in my tree’s embrace, and with my new found grace, I look at her and see the girl I used to be, and my reality is this sweet fantasy For Deborah Guenther Beachboard's Fantasy Contest
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