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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Poppies
I am small among fields of red flowers. They look toward me and watch as time presses its skeletal fingers into my limbs. Yes, this is my body now: a startling mosaic of death-colored discoloration. Thumbprints corrode me like an oil spill, such unglamorous stains. I am other, not red—still alone, even among these populous blossoms. They waver in front of my eyes and sway like ghosts unafraid even of death, haunting me, taunting me, courageous though they are the picture of transience. Life for them is set in stone as summer (arcing upward from the spring only to flatline in the fall), but mine is a winter, refusing to betray its ambiguous end. It begins to click for me, why I am lost among them. The agony of “other” almost brands my throat closed—almost. You are not them, it yells; yet with my blue-black arms outstretched I waver too. It is I, I call out. In graceful parentheses—it is I, (the scared one). But for all my courage, they cannot answer: dying keeps them on a tight schedule, and the sun is setting sooner and sooner now. I learn firsthand that autumn is a study in endings of all different shapes in sizes. Flowers, for instance, have their brains blown out, losing blood in scarlet succession; like soldiers, they wear annihilation as a badge. Mine is different—slower, protracted. I have to wait; it does not come on cue although these bruises are expensive too. I pay for them just under the surface, in currency death takes time to exchange.
Copyright © 2025 Hannah Lindley. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things