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 My flower grows on a lucid hilltop pride,on land that never erodes and thrives through death's caressing touch.Capsulized in crystalline, her petals fall like dewdrops painting the winds cries. Tears kiss the pain; my hurt is in my eyes, my truth, my mask, the softness-crier that feels without touch. And though I hide, she knows me, holds me, turns my stray into life. Evanescing-assuasive-blind is my faith, and she, her majesty, is divine, swaying all that moves and carries onward life. I, in limbo, lie and watch her at night. Reading pagan psalms, I learn the many ways, the many lights that guide seeds of iniquity away from exacerbating plight, the many moralities of mortality. And, though, I read book after book and ponder songs sacred, forlorn, I weary on. My feet imprint where I've been, foot-stepping my physical path of everyday morn and always-ending night. Be it, every step that has been taken, that is who am I, questions that rest with the mind. She, like an angel of a ghost, foot-fell softly upon my chest and opened my body, dim to her own. She can see the tracks, intangible, the home of my soul. Clothed, I fade naked to her affectionate whims, soft touches that sink core-deep, company that lies by my side, ecstacy that sub- heal-sinks into euphoria. When she leaves, my dreams call for her, bleed out for her, frantically seek her guidance and love. I am a faithless man drawn to a light which likeness brims in a body of sweetness, a body that scents warmth echoing after each smell, the sweet smell of my flower. It soothes the aching-wondering, the lost-fantasm that makes me heavier, the metal that makes me harder. Where I'm going, I do not know, but I do choose where, when I walk away, when I go on. 'Pray I do not walk in vain, for, one day, I wish to be king of my domain, myself. But, who am I to say what days will fall onto mine, what power I really have, if I should ever fall in one of the ides like a great leader gone too far? Solitude and ambiguity is my remedy for the illness-uncertainty. All I know is what I want, what beckons me, my unbridled urgency-eternally. And, always, she knows my faithfulness to her, but my choice is my spirit. But, then, I cannot pretend I don't yearn for something more, for something greater than myself, a cradle in which to sow my end. Only life-ambiguous is relevant. With chance, patience, and prayer-faithless, perhaps I'll rest with her, my flower, everlastingly in crystalline-divinity.
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