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 Little children live in their own pure world; They behave like colorful banners unfurled. The joyous toddler takes its first tentative step. Looking at those around, sitting seemingly inept. He grins, waves his arms, ventures forth, falls; For a moment he is simply stunned, then bawls. Cries and entreaties distract him from his misery, He tries one more time, enchanted in his reverie. He succeeds, falling blissfully into his mother’s arm, Who smothers him with kisses as well-earned balm. Who can capture in maturity as part of their essence, The sweet, spontaneous flow of childhood innocence. One by one, we set free the virtues of our chaste youth; One by one, we adopt vile habits that make us uncouth. We darken with age collecting the spoils of the grunge, Accumulating the evils of the world like a porous sponge. We eventually become a person we don’t even know; We have surrendered all the blessings God did bestow. We are left wondering what went wrong, what happened; All our efforts to boost our ego merely our soul blackened. Yet hope springs eternal in this world and all is not lost; We can yet recapture childhood’s purity at some cost. True when we return to our baby haunts, all seems small; While a little toy in a child’s hand is big enough to enthrall. When I smell the smoke of autumn leaves burning with vive, I smell my father’s smoking pipe, a sweet memory to survive. What if we could recapture seeing things for the first time? What if every moment were considered a moment sublime? To remember children in their own world as one of a kind; Like kids to create new worlds from the depths of our mind.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)