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 the photo graphic, 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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When We Were Eight
When you were eight years old waking to another perfect day's dawn what potential did you with your autonomic empathy, integrity of left-deductive with elder-right-tempered languages, discover? Who were you as you stepped into morning's warm spring sun, how were you one of "us" and how many species were included before you were even born, first reminder of school year's end and summer's leisurely recreation of imagination, former lives of love's future past, role play expansion, languishing loved laughter replacing more challenging team sports requiring a win-lose assumption, and visual distinctions between left space in right time. invisible to your perception? What were you doing lying flat on your stomach in dutch clovered lawn's grasses looking down into a miniature jungle without water in dry river beds, forest for ants and other insect tribes, their neighbors our nations and health/dysfunction ecosystems and cultures as sustainably contented climates of regeneration, interrupted by great transitional revolutions, critical economic and political issues with vast cooperative-global opportunities lying between and within these enthymematic communications from Earth's vast RNA-(0)-soul, refractive creation stories, some with advantages and risks and beauty of flight, landing lightly in grass-blade tree tops as ants pursued more industrial economies of richly nutritional value below, sweet crystalline treasures, jewels for their QueenMother Gaia's healthy shabbat investment in embryonic divine vocation developing human naturally regenerative time as health optimization, endosymbiosis of a new generation of flying occupyers, Bodhisattva Warriors for co-empathic peace with interminable cooperative faith in this integrity of nature's ecological jungle? Where was your family-owned business incorporating love with truth and hope for more inclusive faith flexible enough to include boys vulnerably drawn to love other boys' eyes and skin and hearts and mindbodies, more than girls' laughter and light heartedness? How did you invest your perfect humid August days, breathing Lake Michigan's thick air, reading sultry Gone With The Wind in wonder of such rich sensual diversity of spirit and unnatural ownership, of WinLose integrity disguising entitled stupidity, of nobility both within and despite poverty of mendacity both within and despite superfluously competitive wealth commodifying even beauty and power and nobility and darkly rich fertile race? Why did you love this embracing place of multigenerational space, your private familial sangha farm balancing your bicameral heart and lungs mind and limbs in love's familial yet often over meat-headed, overcooked-vegetative and touchy about fruit-filled embrace so that no other place could ever bring this transubstantiating home again, so that each other space might ever bring this momentary polycultural home regained? When we were eight still remembering embryonic Outside/Inside Mother Earth feeding perfect love to DNA eco-mentees through RNA-Zero fractal-memory-syntax of Earth's mentor streams of dreams, Time's CoPresent econsciousness.
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