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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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I still remember you. No matter how far I get, halfway across the world or not; whether or not it's been two whole years, two long years where so very much has changed; doesn't make a lick of difference. Damn, I still remember us. Just last week, on a day when the rain fell on our group as we examined relics of the past, a little of my own shone through as I described to a fellow our first kiss. He talked about how he liked rainy days, because when they came around he used to go to his girl with flowers and watch movies, and it was great. This reminded me, gloriously, of how, on a day much like that, when the rain made anything possible and you glowed; how we went in my front yard to stand beneath it. And how you hopped, skipped, and danced, seemingly on the wet air, laughing lightly as you did - how, then, I simply had to have a kiss from you, and it was magic. Just a few days ago, I examined my life, and how my parents are proud of me. They've been for some time, and it's only grown now, with my job and the distance. In that, I thought of what my father sacrificed, for my brothers and me, part of the reason I've walked the path I have. This reminded me, wistfully, of a time when he knew I despaired, over being suddenly bereft of you - and he took me for a drive. He let me vent, let me discuss you; let me show him with words some of the memories that to this day dance behind my eyes. He let me talk about how down I was, first discovered my poetry; half of it, at that time, about you. He let me go on and on, and gave his advice, and it was great. You see, even where I am now, even though it's been so long; even though I've been over this for some time - even though I swore I wouldn't do it again; I still remember us. I still feel connected. It's infinitely different now, and feels more like an old friend with some special caveats and very special memories, than any yearning for us again. You and I; hard to describe. It was short-lived, but hard-hitting; like the raging tempest that passes faster than breath, faster than thought - awesome. All I hope is one day, for something so wondrous to exist once more, for each of us; whoever it ends up being. Don't mistake my intentions - this isn't a letter of longing for a love, a life long lost. It's just a letter. A letter remembering what you may or may not, what I do; what has passed. It was good.

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And It Was Good

I still remember you. No matter how far I get, halfway across the world or not; whether or not it's been two whole years, two long years where so very much has changed; doesn't make a lick of difference. Damn, I still remember us. Just last week, on a day when the rain fell on our group as we examined relics of the past, a little of my own shone through as I described to a fellow our first kiss. He talked about how he liked rainy days, because when they came around he used to go to his girl with flowers and watch movies, and it was great. This reminded me, gloriously, of how, on a day much like that, when the rain made anything possible and you glowed; how we went in my front yard to stand beneath it. And how you hopped, skipped, and danced, seemingly on the wet air, laughing lightly as you did - how, then, I simply had to have a kiss from you, and it was magic. Just a few days ago, I examined my life, and how my parents are proud of me. They've been for some time, and it's only grown now, with my job and the distance. In that, I thought of what my father sacrificed, for my brothers and me, part of the reason I've walked the path I have. This reminded me, wistfully, of a time when he knew I despaired, over being suddenly bereft of you - and he took me for a drive. He let me vent, let me discuss you; let me show him with words some of the memories that to this day dance behind my eyes. He let me talk about how down I was, first discovered my poetry; half of it, at that time, about you. He let me go on and on, and gave his advice, and it was great. You see, even where I am now, even though it's been so long; even though I've been over this for some time - even though I swore I wouldn't do it again; I still remember us. I still feel connected. It's infinitely different now, and feels more like an old friend with some special caveats and very special memories, than any yearning for us again. You and I; hard to describe. It was short-lived, but hard-hitting; like the raging tempest that passes faster than breath, faster than thought - awesome. All I hope is one day, for something so wondrous to exist once more, for each of us; whoever it ends up being. Don't mistake my intentions - this isn't a letter of longing for a love, a life long lost. It's just a letter. A letter remembering what you may or may not, what I do; what has passed. It was good.