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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required She met him at the door and closed the screen. “Marie is sleeping in the den,” she said. “She spoke to me today, and smiled a bit.” He set his package on the patio floor And sat beside her in the cushioned swing. “So many years we’ve struggled with that child; You grasp at straws, a grunt, a grimace, all The same. Never really any change.” “The doctor came. She hasn’t been herself, You know. She let him close enough to touch her.” “That’s a change.” “She even left her chair For him. He thinks it just some sort of phase; Wait awhile, and she’ll be right as rain.” “How would he know? We’d never know ourselves The way she sits wrapped up from toe to chin In blankets she won’t let you wash. She rocks And sleeps and eats and nothing more.” “But now she doesn’t eat. She always eats.” “And seems to know exactly what she likes.” “She likes your mother’s cookies—chocolate chip And eats them by the plate if we permit.” “How does she know which chip is which? She throws the store-bought ones across the room.” “Her taste, no doubt, is just as good as ours. But now, she’s barely touched a crumb for days.” “She drank her can of Sprite for me last night.” He reached into his bag. “I bought some more. I’ll check on her. She may be thirsty now.” But in his hands, she saw more than the Sprite. “You bought another doll—she doesn’t need . . .” “But this is different. Squishier, and soft. I thought, perhaps, that she might like the feel, Although, I guess, we’ll prob’bly never know.” She looked at him and smiled within herself. She never knew just whom to pity most— Marie, forever locked inside herself, Or him who sat beside her in the swing And struggled with the agony of love. He took the doll and Sprite into the house; In seconds he was back. He handed her The phone. She caught her breath, and shook her head.” “You’d better call someone,” he said. “I think she’s dead.”
Enter Author Name (Not Required)