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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Blue Railings
Why did I feel that way, why did my heart ache whenever I saw her just walking somewhere, or sitting and looking so beautiful. I saw her once, one lifetime long ago leaning on some blue painted railings gazing across a river as I walked by, and I stared at her when she wasn’t looking, then when she turned and looked at me, when our eyes met, why did this happen, my eyes filled with tears and I lowered my gaze and I melted at her feet in the dust. I knew that she wasn’t a center-fold like in those glossy women’s magazines, no ravishing beauty, but there was something about her that came through, she was one of the few that men marry and stay with year after year after year, in love. She was fifteen, a slip of a girl and I eighteen just gone, I always thought that her skin shone like moonlight on a lake, for goodness sake she was just a factory girl, but her eyes, I dreamed about her eyes, and her hair smooth as silk-worms spin, and black, black as ebon ink, and she could dance, O how she could dance and move her lithe body which was made for bosanova. How many years, how many lifetimes had I known her and once again I met her here in this life leaning on some blue railings looking out across a river, maybe this time we’ll be together, forever.
Copyright © 2024 Thomas Mcferran. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things