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 It was a time to bond and booze with dear Papa, An interval all the more naughtily charming As it inflamed the temper of irascible Mama. Before happy hour, we two went shooting With the three o three I bought for drama In a gauche youth that was always dragging. Out we drove in my short, fat pa's beetle, Two maladroits equally socially feeble. We stopped by some neatly stacked cans That we shot, exploding wet excrement Putting a brown pall on our bonding plans. I fired a random shot as if by witty accident. Off we went driving by unbroken fences Till we saw a policeman in bewilderment Standing over a black and white cow, By a farmer making a bellowing row. “We shot the beef, my son,” joshed Pa, And put the foot down upon the pedal, Laughing merrily in the hurrying car. I smiled at his jest however feeble, A tasteless jibe at the furious farmer. The very thought I readily dismissed With a sly, effete flick of the wrist. The matter of the dead cow was forgot Until not too long before oblivion Took hold of every thought of the sot Aged stupid by whisky and bad living. “It was because of that cow we shot, A sin that God has not yet forgiven.” For a neighbour's dog gored his heifer, A punishment he had to decipher. But I think he obliquely gave me blame, For it was I who shot the bovine brute. Before his fading mind went fully lame He reasoned it best to stem guilty root Before old sins haunted shaky mind's frame. Dark disputes lingered as he was less astute. But for me the cow is a point of indifference, In the abattoir a month earlier of its existence.
Enter Author Name (Not Required)