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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The Fresco Tells It All
The Fresco Says It All! From the mountain, From the forest, From the river, From the wild, We came. Naked. Not tamed In their eyes. Depicted by cathedral fresco At Mission BC Our faces are empty In their eyes. No clothes, No nose, No eyes, No ears, No mouth, No expression, No emotions. No individuals. We were the faceless In their eyes Before the Black Robes Came. In their eyes Were we Barren pewter plates? Empty jugs? Blank paper to write on? Creatures to domesticate? To tame? In their eyes Were we cyphers In a ledger? Were we souls In a cash register For deposit in Rome? In their eyes did they see 'Chum' salmon Heading home to die In God? As seen in their fresco As seen by their eyes, Out from the watery wilderness The first of us converted, Got a colourless face and shoulders. The second to convert Got copper coloured skin, Got face legs and arms, And from Rome a number, To mark a soul as saved, As the numbers as blessings Were tallied in a roster At St Peters. At first, We resisted conversion Until small pox struck our village. An invasive species like the Europeans. It brought fatigue, then death after Rashes, lesions and pus-filled scabs. As loved ones were perishing In the fever of the plaque, We were promised Life after death With our elders In a beautiful heaven. As seven out of ten Of our people died We were saved. We were promised salvation And residential schools For our children. We have survived it all As a people. But we are still living with the scars Not of small pox But from our saving. This was no miracle.
Copyright © 2024 Wallace Du Temple. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs