Home » Poems » Poetry Art » Poetry Art / Greeting Card Maker

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.

Text
Layout
Background

Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required
My son is out fixing up the shed. Winter is coming on. Needed doing he said. He had the time and the bound-to’s. I’m not used to this thought process, I’m not. Not from a child. I watch him for a while. Opening and closing gates as needed. The dust, sifted into powder from summer’s heat, poof’s with his steps. The heels of his jeans dragging strings on the ground, erase the tread of his boots. The shed is old. There is algae or lichen on the north side boards, where the wood is splintery gray. Some of the lichen florets are the color of sage, some the color of a bright orange rust, Circled with gray ones and black, their life cycle played out. He hammers nails and screws in screws while holding boards in place. Sweat glistening where skin is exposed, making long dark stains in his black shirt. Veins standing out against the strain, and Muscles laboring to prove he can do the job well, without a mother’s help. While he works I think about his father and how differently they work. His father preferring team work and orchestrated smooth motion working side by side, no extra movements – and he whistled. My son needs to prove his skills first – alone. The shed is done and it will brave another winter, keeping the horses sheltered from the elements. The wind, snow and horses milling about, will obliterate the trail of pant cuffs, Along with the memory of one cool day at the end of summer, When a man worked hard to rebuild their shelter.

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

Color:

Main/Poem Text

Color:

Background Position Alignment:
LeftCenterRight | TopCenterBottom

Tall Bkgds
Wide Bkgds

Upload Image:

Fit to HeightFit to Width

10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:

Fit to HeightFit to Width

Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg

Layout: TallShort

www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry

Rebuilding the Shed In the Backyard - Again

My son is out fixing up the shed. Winter is coming on. Needed doing he said. He had the time and the bound-to’s. I’m not used to this thought process, I’m not. Not from a child. I watch him for a while. Opening and closing gates as needed. The dust, sifted into powder from summer’s heat, poof’s with his steps. The heels of his jeans dragging strings on the ground, erase the tread of his boots. The shed is old. There is algae or lichen on the north side boards, where the wood is splintery gray. Some of the lichen florets are the color of sage, some the color of a bright orange rust, Circled with gray ones and black, their life cycle played out. He hammers nails and screws in screws while holding boards in place. Sweat glistening where skin is exposed, making long dark stains in his black shirt. Veins standing out against the strain, and Muscles laboring to prove he can do the job well, without a mother’s help. While he works I think about his father and how differently they work. His father preferring team work and orchestrated smooth motion working side by side, no extra movements – and he whistled. My son needs to prove his skills first – alone. The shed is done and it will brave another winter, keeping the horses sheltered from the elements. The wind, snow and horses milling about, will obliterate the trail of pant cuffs, Along with the memory of one cool day at the end of summer, When a man worked hard to rebuild their shelter.