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)Required October had now come again just like it did back since, The gunfighter Sam Holt had shot the kid named Benny Pence. It was on All Hallows’ night with the moon high and blood red— When Benny came lookin’ for him before he shot him dead. Why would a fool farm boy try to draw on that gun slinger? When he had no chance on God’s earth if he raised a finger? But sure enough on that night, that’s what all the town then saw— When Benny Pence raised his gun and said the fatal word: “Draw!” But that had been a year ago come this All Hallows’ Eve, And Sam Holt felt a cold wind blow that made him want to leave. The harvest moon now hung above as Sam walked down the street— He stopped for one brief moment at the place where they did meet. Then like a dream that voice came back that meekly called him out— Sam’s cold, sweaty hand then trembled as he began to shout: “Don’t call me Ben! I’ll shoot you dead, and this time I’ll make good!” Then Sam wildly drew and fired at the pale moon where he stood. Somewhere a hoot owl screamed and Sam’s loud shots rang out on high, As he fired and fired again at Ben’s shadow so he’d die. But when the gun smoke cleared and that dim vision was not there, Sam Holt now stood just a dyin’ in the dusty street square. There were no gunshots in Sam’s body, no marks found at all— His hair now white, his once ruddy flesh now a deathly pall. Yet when the town folk buried Sam, they noticed at Boot Hill, Two other graves marked Pence by the one they had come to fill. Benny Pence and his brother Bud, had died a year apart— Both shot down by Sam Holt that feared gunslinger with no heart. And so the three now rested within gun fire of the others— Holt now dead of fright from those two departed Pence brothers. And so each year it happened: other slingers would meet fate— And die of fright All Hallows’ night when the hour was late. So now folk knew the story of that fool kid Benny Pence— Come back to revenge his brother each All Hallows’ night since.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)