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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.

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His hand reached out to mine, open, Holding it, I smiled, our eyes danced with understanding, Form and blush outlined his expectations, But I could see that there may be fear inside. Mary restated their predicament, That the child was born out with the marriage bond, And that people were swaying to the opposite side, And course dialogue, laughter and spitting were norm. So I asked the two for their thoughts and predictions, About the child, if he perhaps could be like, special? And they specified that he would cure, heal and exorcise, And also promised that they’d talk to him about the poor. Could this baby be the messiah? I pondered and hoped in their certainty; Was this the predicted son of god? He would be free from aggressive victimisation, If we could just name him as god's son. So I suggested to his parents, That if the wise men came with a quest, To accept the name Jesus Christ, And certify the census, no less. Freedom for some is in lying, When there’s no possible alternatives, But I believe Joseph never lied, In the population census of Bethlehem, That just so happened to pass by. The baby hadn’t been named, Only the parents last name was changed, Made credible for interaction, For currency and ware to be exchanged. The child would have been suppressed by all, Assumed to be dirty and unclean, Not for chat or dialogue, And certainly not for work in a trade of his call, Or for work in any trade for that matter. Nothing would ever have been done, The poor would never have been healed, Or not so quickly for sure in history; The government would not have been rifled, And Christ would not have come. Treating the poor for health problems, Would have come through government legislation, A long time after Christ, In an austere, aloof manner. People to people relationships, Would not have been respected, If care had been awarded top-down, By bureaucrats and officials: As supervisors of the protected. Society at that time was narrow minded, Stuck in traditional religion; There were outcasts, sinners, infectious people, And assumptions were remedial and red: There were no special people, No exceptions to the rule, Only one place for the messiah confided. One baby matters to me, A life should be saved at any cost and risk, Because the abilities you show when young, Shouldn’t be muffled or labeled regressive, But nurtured in acceptance and love.

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A Visit From a Social Worker

His hand reached out to mine, open, Holding it, I smiled, our eyes danced with understanding, Form and blush outlined his expectations, But I could see that there may be fear inside. Mary restated their predicament, That the child was born out with the marriage bond, And that people were swaying to the opposite side, And course dialogue, laughter and spitting were norm. So I asked the two for their thoughts and predictions, About the child, if he perhaps could be like, special? And they specified that he would cure, heal and exorcise, And also promised that they’d talk to him about the poor. Could this baby be the messiah? I pondered and hoped in their certainty; Was this the predicted son of god? He would be free from aggressive victimisation, If we could just name him as god's son. So I suggested to his parents, That if the wise men came with a quest, To accept the name Jesus Christ, And certify the census, no less. Freedom for some is in lying, When there’s no possible alternatives, But I believe Joseph never lied, In the population census of Bethlehem, That just so happened to pass by. The baby hadn’t been named, Only the parents last name was changed, Made credible for interaction, For currency and ware to be exchanged. The child would have been suppressed by all, Assumed to be dirty and unclean, Not for chat or dialogue, And certainly not for work in a trade of his call, Or for work in any trade for that matter. Nothing would ever have been done, The poor would never have been healed, Or not so quickly for sure in history; The government would not have been rifled, And Christ would not have come. Treating the poor for health problems, Would have come through government legislation, A long time after Christ, In an austere, aloof manner. People to people relationships, Would not have been respected, If care had been awarded top-down, By bureaucrats and officials: As supervisors of the protected. Society at that time was narrow minded, Stuck in traditional religion; There were outcasts, sinners, infectious people, And assumptions were remedial and red: There were no special people, No exceptions to the rule, Only one place for the messiah confided. One baby matters to me, A life should be saved at any cost and risk, Because the abilities you show when young, Shouldn’t be muffled or labeled regressive, But nurtured in acceptance and love.