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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required George W. Towne 1847 – 1899 From Iowa I came by restless wagon train. From the mid-west I arrived With satchel and silken scalp still intact. I read Proverbs and Ecclesiastes to pass the time. I read the Gospels of John and Luke. I read Harriet Beecher Stowe and I read John Greenleaf Whittier. I saw the icy Rocky Mountains beckon me to the west Waving their invisible fluid fingers Like blond ballerinas in silent ever-moving tableaux. I saw the railroad snake through the endless golden valleys. And I saw the muddy roads converge Under a hundred bee-infested pepper trees. And it was here in this new colony I found a home For my wife Fannie and our three dubious children. You could always spot me in the distance, Walking down Pickering Street. For I was the dapper one in black derby hat Taking the cash in the Greenleaf Avenue millinery. I was the suited one in dusty black, Winking and bowing to the lovely ladies Showing my respect but imagining something else Deep within my empty searching soul. I was the tall, cleanly shaven erudite Who had memorized the entire Gospel of John And walked the northern foothills at sunset Wearing my ever-present derby hat And meeting, yes, Secretly meeting Lucy Swain Under the tall cedar tree on Rideout Ranch. Confession is indeed good for the soul. Confession has always allowed a good but dishonest man to sleep soundly. To sleep long languorous hours on a cold winter’s night. To sleep for an eternity without guilt or regrets Under the hardened forgotten dirt of Clark Cemetery. For I was the handsome one in derby hat And only Lucy and I knew, Only she and I knew intimately About the patch of soft carpet-like grass, There under the tall silent cedar tree On Rideout Ranch.
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