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 Bear and the Birds Vernal equinox comes shining. Hungry wolves in forest whining. Mighty bear awakens growling, time to go on sky’s great prowling. Chickadee feels night-time falling, “feed me food” from stomach calling. Mother bear up sky comes climbing, fatty flesh with perfect timing. Sky-bear is big and bird is small so chickadee puts out a call, “if all want food then all must hunt. I’ll bring my pot, who goes in front?” Cute moosebird cries, “I choose the rear – to sweep the mess – it’s not from fear. Cock robin shouts, “I’m in the lead! My trusty bow will do the deed.” “I’ll peck her juicy nose and eye and you can have a meaty thigh,” cries chickadee, “a-tee-hee-hee, and moosebird gets a bony knee.” All summer long they stalk their prey who hides behind the sun by day but when the lid goes on at night they see her there by lunar light. “It’s Autumn now, let’s slay the beast then hide our meat for winter feast.” But bear stands high to make a fight with paws that strike and teeth that bite. Moosebird and chickadee fly low for fear the beast will land a blow but robin, with a steady eye, takes aim and lets an arrow fly. Sharp barb rips into bear’s great chest. Her spurting blood stains robin’s breast then covers maple trees in red. Leaves fall like tears as bear is bled. The winter fat seeps from her bones as cold as death as hard as stones and all the land is covered white and plunged into a winter’s night. Her frame still floats in northern sky but hush belovèd do not cry, her spirit fled back to the den so in the spring she’ll rise again. Then by the light of crescent moon like starry handle of a spoon three birds will follow after bear as close as any hunter dare.
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