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
Attack of the Squash People
And thus the people every year
in the valley of humid July
did sacrifice themselves
to the long green phallic god
and eat and eat and eat.

They're coming, they're on us,
the long striped gourds, the silky
babies, the hairy adolescents,
the lumpy vast adults
like the trunks of green elephants.

Recite fifty zucchini recipes!

Zucchini tempura; creamed soup;
sauté with olive oil and cumin,
tomatoes, onion; frittata;
casserole of lamb; baked
topped with cheese; marinated;
stuffed; stewed; driven
through the heart like a stake.


Get rid of old friends: they too
have gardens and full trunks.

Look for newcomers: befriend
them in the post office, unload
on them and run.
Stop tourists
in the street.
Take truckloads
to Boston.
Give to your Red Cross.

Beg on the highway: please
take my zucchini, I have a crippled
mother at home with heartburn.


Sneak out before dawn to drop
them in other people's gardens,
in baby buggies at churchdoors.

Shot, smuggling zucchini into
mailboxes, a federal offense.


With a suave reptilian glitter
you bask among your raspy
fronds sudden and huge as
alligators.
You give and give
too much, like summer days
limp with heat, thunderstorms
bursting their bags on our heads,
as we salt and freeze and pickle
for the too little to come.
Written by: Marge Piercy

Book: Reflection on the Important Things