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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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March 1985. The God-voice had been yelling at me to go to the library since I got the third child bathed and in bed, And I had sat down for one measly second to relax. Joe? What? Can you take this book to the library? It’s 9:00. The library is closed. I know. Take it tomorrow. Pay the twenty-five cent fine. My eyes start to close, but the voice is yelling now. Go to the library! Go to the library. NOW! Crap. I am so exhausted. Being psychic is irritating some times. I beg Joe once again, but he refuses. So I get the book, and head for the car. A big car, a big huge big big seats everybody kind of station wagon. This is 1985, so I need one of these. I’m a girl scout leader with 18 laughing yelling girls. As I start to drive in the library lot, I see what looks like a riot IN THE LOT. Oh, great, I think. Young Mother killed going to library at 9 p.m. after library is closed. I drive clear around the block to avoid riot, go up the secret back entrance Jump out of car, run in full terror with book, plunk it down book slot, Run back to car, jump in, lock door, try to get out and realize I am now Surrounded by a bunch of teenagers. YELLING TEENAGERS. An angry, yelling, MOB of teenagers! I am so glad I have one button that locks every door simultaneously now. Bam. Locked. Lady! Lady! Please, lady! My full brain kicks in and I realize every teenager is a girl, and some of them have been crying. I lower my window two inches. “What’s going on?” Some are hiccup-sobbing. “We left the mall about two hours ago, following some cute guys, and then it got dark, and we don’t remember how we got here. We’re from Moravia (very small town), we’re here for the girls’ basket ball tournament, and we have to go back to the mall. Our teachers are going to be so mad.” I hit UNLOCK. “Jump in!” I say. “I can get you there in 8 minutes!” They are so relieved as am I. I am a mother of 3 girls, and a pseudo-do-mother of 15 others, remember? They are the most grateful, happy, joyful, giggly, excited, relieved girls, and I am full of myself telling them how glad I am that I came along and telling them how it came to be. As I steer that big old green station wagon full of girls into the huge almost empty parking lot at Merle Hay Mall I see four buses, not leaving the abduction scene, and six mighty worried-looking teachers. To help them, I lay on my horn and keep it down all the way to them about a block and a half. The girls are waving from all nineteen windows and screaming and blowing kisses. Those teachers who should have been jumping up and down with pure joy just stare at us as if we are a UFO or dinosaur with an extra head or something. I screech to a stop and everyone starts yelling thank yous and I love yous and thank yous and I feel such a pride that I listened to God once again. As I drive home with a huge satisfied joyful beyond joyful smile on my face, I think “If Joe would have gone, they would have never gotten in the car with him" Joe's 350 pound man, with an intimidating glare that I often need. People are so scared of him he doesn’t have to wait in a line. They always open a register for him. No, God, it had to be me, a small woman with a BIG BIG car, and it had to be a small woman with a big big car who can hear GOD. So let’s not make fun of psychics, okay?

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March 1985. The God-voice had been yelling at me to go to the library since I got the third child bathed and in bed, And I had sat down for one measly second to relax. Joe? What? Can you take this book to the library? It’s 9:00. The library is closed. I know. Take it tomorrow. Pay the twenty-five cent fine. My eyes start to close, but the voice is yelling now. Go to the library! Go to the library. NOW! Crap. I am so exhausted. Being psychic is irritating some times. I beg Joe once again, but he refuses. So I get the book, and head for the car. A big car, a big huge big big seats everybody kind of station wagon. This is 1985, so I need one of these. I’m a girl scout leader with 18 laughing yelling girls. As I start to drive in the library lot, I see what looks like a riot IN THE LOT. Oh, great, I think. Young Mother killed going to library at 9 p.m. after library is closed. I drive clear around the block to avoid riot, go up the secret back entrance Jump out of car, run in full terror with book, plunk it down book slot, Run back to car, jump in, lock door, try to get out and realize I am now Surrounded by a bunch of teenagers. YELLING TEENAGERS. An angry, yelling, MOB of teenagers! I am so glad I have one button that locks every door simultaneously now. Bam. Locked. Lady! Lady! Please, lady! My full brain kicks in and I realize every teenager is a girl, and some of them have been crying. I lower my window two inches. “What’s going on?” Some are hiccup-sobbing. “We left the mall about two hours ago, following some cute guys, and then it got dark, and we don’t remember how we got here. We’re from Moravia (very small town), we’re here for the girls’ basket ball tournament, and we have to go back to the mall. Our teachers are going to be so mad.” I hit UNLOCK. “Jump in!” I say. “I can get you there in 8 minutes!” They are so relieved as am I. I am a mother of 3 girls, and a pseudo-do-mother of 15 others, remember? They are the most grateful, happy, joyful, giggly, excited, relieved girls, and I am full of myself telling them how glad I am that I came along and telling them how it came to be. As I steer that big old green station wagon full of girls into the huge almost empty parking lot at Merle Hay Mall I see four buses, not leaving the abduction scene, and six mighty worried-looking teachers. To help them, I lay on my horn and keep it down all the way to them about a block and a half. The girls are waving from all nineteen windows and screaming and blowing kisses. Those teachers who should have been jumping up and down with pure joy just stare at us as if we are a UFO or dinosaur with an extra head or something. I screech to a stop and everyone starts yelling thank yous and I love yous and thank yous and I feel such a pride that I listened to God once again. As I drive home with a huge satisfied joyful beyond joyful smile on my face, I think “If Joe would have gone, they would have never gotten in the car with him" Joe's 350 pound man, with an intimidating glare that I often need. People are so scared of him he doesn’t have to wait in a line. They always open a register for him. No, God, it had to be me, a small woman with a BIG BIG car, and it had to be a small woman with a big big car who can hear GOD. So let’s not make fun of psychics, okay?