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 Beating drums mark his last march and fifes play lowly, a breeze blows on blackthorn blossoms, Raised high above on hardened shoulders for the mourning march, that slowly glides him along, A hero, a name carved in precious polished stone, this is his last the most important journey, The drums roll, bearers sway quietly with each step, a fife plays sadly bringing burning tears. Winter, its hard wrinkled face and rough horny hands froze men to death stuck in no mans land, It has no friends in this evil hated war and happily takes wounded men, a trophy to its might, Thick mud is sometimes frozen and is like granite as the brave settle waiting for the whistle, Some died with honour, their bravery hard to understand, bearers proudly shoulder such a man. The parade stops at a grave, they lay their comrade down on planks of wood covering the hole, The innocence of sweet youth taken away, living with bitter hating men, fear drives them on, This boy was different he believed in the cause and he died for that sacred belief, honour, The drum roll stops and a bugle plays the last post, men with their head bowed pray for help. At home all are working in their gardens, a father mows grass, turning earth fresh and mellow, Young flowers spring up in his boarders they have a delicate, poetic beauty a snow drop grows, His boy, in fields far away, just as delicate as these new flowers when he took the shilling, A father stops, can he hear the drums slowly and fifes playing lowly as his boy is buried into the ground.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)