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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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I, heart on sleeve ... proudly? I suppose, in a contrite way ... but it's beyond my breadth to control, so it is what it IS. Indeed, I am a "piner", pure, I keep memories replete in my pocket, like so much gleaming, priceless gold, and I take Them out to polish from time-to-time, to warm the embers that eventuality and concern tarnish with time. With open allowance, I do so, making no secret of that which might be considered beyond everyday allocation or stake. Such Prose is my purge, thus, but it is a knife with two edges, one cutting a swath demur, the need for it a critical expense, but the other slices humility, and those who are the focus of their creative intention, are made well-aware of the lucid Agency of my heart ... such is the open payment for their raw, ripened benefit - poetry, songs, stories, posts, memes, odes to the ether ... offered up, not only for the sake of a veiled dedication to all that YOU, I and WE were, But added unto the former, my hopelessly reckless and glaringly careless Spirit. I make no excuses for the fashion by which I lay bare the motivations and clear actualization that dwell at my core ... the world knows all too well how YOU have put to your command the very breath that speaks your name, and the empty hopes of a return to the magic that WAS. But YOU are not the only sad phantom that visits my dreams, oh no, there is a more Sacred and frequent haunting that I wake with, it's taste on my tongue even more decadent than yours ... its strangle on my heart, more sure and tenacious than any other ... the salacious battles that I wage with it With regularity are epic, if not extraordinary. Exquisitely seductive in all details, sensual grappling with the perfection that only a first TRUE love can embody, and an all-consuming desire that will follow me to oblivion. THAT apparition of my Slumber, as real in my dreams as she was in actuality, has played the final trump card, and called me on the bluff of my severed affections. At an unexpected time when I dared not anticipate it, that seductive specter found for me the Answer I believed I'd never find for myself ... the answer to YOU, the answer to the fool I have made myself for your sake ... the answer to the laugh I hear whenever I see you in your happy new consanguinity, the final refrain To the song that I wrote for you, the one you will never hear ... the scratch in the sand that is never there anymore when I turn to leave that Place, the answer to the missing harmony that matched my melody exactly and knew, (Without words), what I would do next ... the answer to our perfect fit of hands, thoughts, dreams, plans, bodies, and the answer to all those intangibles that escape my descriptions here ... the very LAST thing I ever dreamed I'd be able to apply to the visceral grasp you have had on my soul, and the sad finality to a hopeful thread that I've held onto for SO, so long ... closure, true. Oh, the phantom will haunt me again, I'm sure, and your visage Will wring my heart of its silt, and wake me with your taste still on my lips ... but now, the dream's waning will take the residue of your love with it, the night's passing will lift my heart from your shadow, and I'll look ahead for my Hope, instead of always behind me.

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Farewell, Phantoms

I, heart on sleeve ... proudly? I suppose, in a contrite way ... but it's beyond my breadth to control, so it is what it IS. Indeed, I am a "piner", pure, I keep memories replete in my pocket, like so much gleaming, priceless gold, and I take Them out to polish from time-to-time, to warm the embers that eventuality and concern tarnish with time. With open allowance, I do so, making no secret of that which might be considered beyond everyday allocation or stake. Such Prose is my purge, thus, but it is a knife with two edges, one cutting a swath demur, the need for it a critical expense, but the other slices humility, and those who are the focus of their creative intention, are made well-aware of the lucid Agency of my heart ... such is the open payment for their raw, ripened benefit - poetry, songs, stories, posts, memes, odes to the ether ... offered up, not only for the sake of a veiled dedication to all that YOU, I and WE were, But added unto the former, my hopelessly reckless and glaringly careless Spirit. I make no excuses for the fashion by which I lay bare the motivations and clear actualization that dwell at my core ... the world knows all too well how YOU have put to your command the very breath that speaks your name, and the empty hopes of a return to the magic that WAS. But YOU are not the only sad phantom that visits my dreams, oh no, there is a more Sacred and frequent haunting that I wake with, it's taste on my tongue even more decadent than yours ... its strangle on my heart, more sure and tenacious than any other ... the salacious battles that I wage with it With regularity are epic, if not extraordinary. Exquisitely seductive in all details, sensual grappling with the perfection that only a first TRUE love can embody, and an all-consuming desire that will follow me to oblivion. THAT apparition of my Slumber, as real in my dreams as she was in actuality, has played the final trump card, and called me on the bluff of my severed affections. At an unexpected time when I dared not anticipate it, that seductive specter found for me the Answer I believed I'd never find for myself ... the answer to YOU, the answer to the fool I have made myself for your sake ... the answer to the laugh I hear whenever I see you in your happy new consanguinity, the final refrain To the song that I wrote for you, the one you will never hear ... the scratch in the sand that is never there anymore when I turn to leave that Place, the answer to the missing harmony that matched my melody exactly and knew, (Without words), what I would do next ... the answer to our perfect fit of hands, thoughts, dreams, plans, bodies, and the answer to all those intangibles that escape my descriptions here ... the very LAST thing I ever dreamed I'd be able to apply to the visceral grasp you have had on my soul, and the sad finality to a hopeful thread that I've held onto for SO, so long ... closure, true. Oh, the phantom will haunt me again, I'm sure, and your visage Will wring my heart of its silt, and wake me with your taste still on my lips ... but now, the dream's waning will take the residue of your love with it, the night's passing will lift my heart from your shadow, and I'll look ahead for my Hope, instead of always behind me.