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 the photo graphic, 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)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
One most dramatic change in my life
(A recent virtual chat with thine youngest daughter awakened poignant memories adjusting to fatherhood for first time). December 22nd 1996 Bundle of Edenic Joy Twenty one plus years ago faux self anointed cap’n Matthew Scott Harris twittered n burst with ahoy on account of thine first borne – unbeknownst to us then if girl or boy so an assortment of gender appropriate names – some brazen others coy filled pages of our journals, viz newly minted parent’s endless employ though of Semitic ancestry choices per namesake resulted, relinguished, and reflected more ova goy which genealogy less significant than precious progeny healthily fused vis a vis via twenty-six chromosomes that did miraculously alloy into a healthy genetically whipped miracle – crème of the crop that only imaginary dragons reigning over a vampire weeknd with fiery red hot chili peppered lyrics could drop whereby flute tour ring notes induces Crowded House crowdsource to hip hop calisthenics that emulate swishing brush strokes of a mop, which if attempted by myself, would witness one sic pop so, he sticks twizz ranks, viz his literate ass spur ray shun to confess those thermostatic and temperature controlled emotions more or less extolling occasions that held poignancy, though as first time foo fighter father my state of managing a newborn felt chaotic and sorry mess though words resonated less with Eden, she most likely happened to be oblivious asper YES mine hand felt hog tied, yet over ensuing years – the invitation, integration, and initiation Rites aiding of spring indelibly impressed invaluable psychic ring whereby initial awkward role no longer on par as foster child for her existence (albeit demanding at times – synonymous with other infantile pang), thine essence acquired an acute attentiveness to her basic needs and wants likened to pay obeisance per a special offering, whose absence as a grown woman make mine heart grow fond (and psych twinge with nostalgia) those long days journey into night, yet mandatory to let go this biological off shoot part of me (atavistic human league to attending babyhood pampering she required perhaps, in near future happiness springing from within herself she will bring now, a mixed bag of emotions wrestle and roil inside her corporeal being, I praise and prize accomplishments spurred by natural borne desires to become independent rather than shutter herself up (as exemplified by das papa, who still writhes, seethes, and orates many forfeited explorations of natural self discovery thwarted renting my psyche asunder with lightening mailer daemons still on the prowl, and trawling like internet trolls essentially explaining present years of dulled emotional, excised financial, hogtied interpersonal and social toil repercussions forever unfairly induced upon the darling lass pronounced upon star student, who suffered sheer agony when asked – by classmates - the vocations of me or “mother abby’, which vicarious torture inflict means to destroy myself, cuz utter embarrassment, misery, writhing really vociferously within genetic blend, whose love not asked nor sought unequivocally!
Copyright © 2020 matthew harris. All Rights Reserved