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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www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Love Letter
Not easy to state the change you made.

If I'm alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
Staying put according to habit.

You didn't just tow me an inch, no--
Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
Skyward again, without hope, of course,
Of apprehending blueness, or stars.


That wasn't it.
I slept, say: a snake
Masked among black rocks as a black rock
In the white hiatus of winter--
Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
In the million perfectly-chisled
Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
My cheeks of basalt.
They turned to tears,
Angels weeping over dull natures,
But didn't convince me.
Those tears froze.

Each dead head had a visor of ice.


And I slept on like a bent finger.

The first thing I was was sheer air
And the locked drops rising in dew
Limpid as spirits.
Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round about.

I didn't know what to make of it.

I shone, mice-scaled, and unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems of plants.

I wasn't fooled.
I knew you at once.


Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.

My finger-length grew lucent as glass.

I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, and arm, a leg.

From stone to cloud, so I ascended.

Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my soul-shift
Pure as a pane of ice.
It's a gift.
Written by: Sylvia Plath