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 Written by Mpho Leteng(Botswana), Donald Kuutsi(Zimbabwe) and Blessing Masora(Zimbabwe) Mountains stand like sentinels, guardians of secrets whispered in the wind, the baobab trees hold tales in their gnarled arms, ancient stories of drought and survival, while the sun beats down, relentless, a fiery orb, demanding tribute from the weary soil. Children run after shadows, their laughter mingling with the dust, tiny feet chasing dreams that swirl like the dust devils, as mothers gather water, from wells too deep, carrying hope on their heads, and in their hearts. When will the rain come? The farmers await with seeds in hand, their fingers itching to delve into the welcoming embrace of moist earth, to plant the future, to harvest the promise of tomorrow, each droplet a note in the symphony of life, a rhythm that speaks of abundance, of green fields swaying in harmony, of rivers swollen with joy, the pulse of the continent. And the animals, the great herds that roam, searching for the lushness that only rain can bring, the elephants, majestic and wise, trumpeting in the distance, as if calling to the clouds, "Come! Dance upon our backs, wash our spirits with your grace." The sky, an artist of moods, paints with strokes of grey and blue, while we, the children of this land, watch and wait, with bated breath, for the first drop to fall, for the symphony of thunder to roll, and the dance of the rain to begin, to quench the thirst of the earth, to fill our spirits with hope anew. So tell me, when will the rain come? Will it arrive like a gentle lover, or storm in with the fury of a tempest?
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