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 1896 Mine was the woman to me, darkling I found her: Haling her dumb from the camp, held her and bound her. Hot rose her tribe on our track ere I had proved her; Hearing her laugh in the gloom, greatly I loved her. Swift through the forest we ran, none stood to guard us, Few were my people and fa; then the flood barred us -- Him we call Son of the Sea, sullen and swollen. Panting we waited the death, stealer and stolen. Yet ere they came to my lance laid for the slaughter, Lightly she leaped to a log lapped in the water; Holding on high and apart skins that arrayed her, Called she the God of the Wind that He should aid her. Life had the tree at that word (Praise we the Giver!) Otter-like left he the bank for the full river. Far fell their axes behind, flashing and ringing, Wonder was on me and fear -- yet she was singing! Low lay the land we had left. Now the blue bound us, Even the Floor of the Gods level around us. Whisper there was not, nor word, shadow nor showing, Till the light stired on the deep, glowing and growing. Then did He leap to His place flaring from under, He the Compeller, the Sun, bared to our wonder. Nay, not a league from our eyes blinded with gazing, Cleared He the Gate of the World, huge and amazing! This we beheld (and we live) -- the Pit of the Burning! Then the God spoke to the tree for our returning; Back to the beach of our flight, fearless and slowly, Back to our slayers went he: but we were holy. Men that were hot in that hunt, women that followed, Babes that were promised our bones, trembled and wallowed. Over the necks of the Tribe crouching and fawning -- Prophet and priestess we came back from the dawning!
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