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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Imagine you’re a woman, with a mind as trained, acute and fertile as exists. Imagine that your erudite, refined creations top each year’s best-seller lists. You write in English, French and Portuguese. Translating ancient classics from the Greek, (for you, no bigger deal than shelling peas) you thrill the world, to hear Orestes speak! But this is eighteen forty. There’s a catch. You’re middle-aged and single. “On the shelf”. Your father keeps you housebound, unattached: he wants you as a frill, not for yourself. The man’s a monster. You’re not free to act. He holds you here, unnoticed, bored, unwed. Your only means of protest at the fact of kidnap is, you’ve taken to your bed. Like many women, both before and since, you’re “delicate”. It’s how you take a stand. But what of that long-dreamed of, handsome prince, your rescuer? Don’t worry. He’s at hand! Elizabeth M. Barrett is your name. A gentleman comes calling, loves your work. He’s Robert Browning, of “Sordello” fame, and suddenly there’s light amid the murk! He shows up every day at Wimpole Street, and soon you loosen the paternal tether: with Mister Browning, you’ve re-found your feet! You’ll marry him, then run away together! The banns were read discreetly, days ago: the journey’s booked. No vacillating now! The father’s out on business: down below, in Wimpole Street, a hansom waits: but how to saunter past the servants? What a fright! My trusty Morgan – glad I could suborn her: Well, here we go – I’ll sleep in France tonight! Brave Robert’s waiting, just around the corner! The thing was carried off without a hitch. They wed, they fled. So farewell, Wimpole Street! And far from wish undone her Dunmow Flitch, Elizabeth’s contentment was complete. One’s fate can turn upon a single act. Two poets lived as one – idyllic bliss! They now had what they previously had lacked – each other. Fiction can’t improve on this!
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