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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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(Must be read, while listening to the music link embedded in this poem, for without the music, the magic is missing). W. E. Soundtrack- Abel Korzeniowski https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxO1csWNKmg "dans l'heure bleue deux" He sits at his desk like some frozen soulless vintage Christie’s Automaton It’s a Grey day, he’s a world away as he straightens his tie, cuffs his links moves his pens in straight line an assassin’s bullets for brief meetings ruthless pointless annihilation he’s so intent on order no interruptions to his mission of emaciating satisfaction in his heart an aching denial he lacks participation Love's vacant, ‘tis his lonely vindication She stands at her window like some sad Renoir painting the slow steady rain castes grey ripples on her luminous face waning sadness ever wrenching life tainting her stagnant soul’s deep oceans Love’s longing she’s frowning consternation as tears tipple down her cheeks she is thinking, rose petals falling she’s a dying bush, thorns her heart’s thicket violins a symphony stirring she moves away to her piano, sits and with each long slender finger she plays her heart’s notes, the missing keys, her life is out of harmony passion in the music there is her story in her heart an aching denial she lacks participation Love's bleeding away it’s sharp perfume Dark Red Roses He thinks Last Dance She thinks Last Romance Worlds away dancing in time, metronome perfect Waltzing in the whirling windmills of their minds Love's escaping in the Late Evenings of their lives He straightens his pens in his mind the music seeps in his well-ordered mission interrupted he is drowning in this, his Elysian Fields moment dancing with a phantom in his imagination She plays her keys ravenously, potent, she is in the moment, she is drowning in all her swelling oceans music echoes, the wind carries out through open windows on air's currents her stirring piano’s symphony the birdsong wings of her searing melody's invocation In their minds two complete strangers together dance in time they're together participating in their reverie waltz in their minds two Phantoms dance in perfect time their dans l'heure bleue je t’aime in their vacant room soliloquay metronome beats perfect time their chemistry of falling tears their dans l'heure bleue je t’aime (Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)

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Dans L'Heure Bleue Deux

(Must be read, while listening to the music link embedded in this poem, for without the music, the magic is missing). W. E. Soundtrack- Abel Korzeniowski https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxO1csWNKmg "dans l'heure bleue deux" He sits at his desk like some frozen soulless vintage Christie’s Automaton It’s a Grey day, he’s a world away as he straightens his tie, cuffs his links moves his pens in straight line an assassin’s bullets for brief meetings ruthless pointless annihilation he’s so intent on order no interruptions to his mission of emaciating satisfaction in his heart an aching denial he lacks participation Love's vacant, ‘tis his lonely vindication She stands at her window like some sad Renoir painting the slow steady rain castes grey ripples on her luminous face waning sadness ever wrenching life tainting her stagnant soul’s deep oceans Love’s longing she’s frowning consternation as tears tipple down her cheeks she is thinking, rose petals falling she’s a dying bush, thorns her heart’s thicket violins a symphony stirring she moves away to her piano, sits and with each long slender finger she plays her heart’s notes, the missing keys, her life is out of harmony passion in the music there is her story in her heart an aching denial she lacks participation Love's bleeding away it’s sharp perfume Dark Red Roses He thinks Last Dance She thinks Last Romance Worlds away dancing in time, metronome perfect Waltzing in the whirling windmills of their minds Love's escaping in the Late Evenings of their lives He straightens his pens in his mind the music seeps in his well-ordered mission interrupted he is drowning in this, his Elysian Fields moment dancing with a phantom in his imagination She plays her keys ravenously, potent, she is in the moment, she is drowning in all her swelling oceans music echoes, the wind carries out through open windows on air's currents her stirring piano’s symphony the birdsong wings of her searing melody's invocation In their minds two complete strangers together dance in time they're together participating in their reverie waltz in their minds two Phantoms dance in perfect time their dans l'heure bleue je t’aime in their vacant room soliloquay metronome beats perfect time their chemistry of falling tears their dans l'heure bleue je t’aime (Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)