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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
I, Claudia
(A Spoon River Poem) You loved me well, you loved me long, even with joy fading from my eyes, my beauty your heart's silent song, and sorrow hidden in burnished skies. Six strapping sons feathered our nest, pride your meat, and hope your drive for peace to rest within my breast, watching our sons grow and thrive. My pride lay seated in one alone, a daughter, supping from my dish, her grace shining like a midnight sun, her presence fulfilling every wish. Death came feeding at her door, in a single day, her light was gone. I sewed to clothe her one time more in her five years, I'd always done. Each day after, I lived to mourn; you burned to melt my frozen core. Our boys also, with fibers torn, became crippled casualties of war. Why couldn't I see them clear, with such longing in their eyes; that in my grief-stricken sphere, wounded egos shrank and died. Though she and I, at last, conjoin reduced to dust and mingled here she's one of seven from my loins steeped in years of guilt and tears. Too late discerned, my own selfhood, they’ve scattered and can't be found. So undeserved, my peaceful shroud atop this hill, beneath this ground.
Copyright © 2024 Cona Adams. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs