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
I see an old house alone on the plains, abandoned a century or more, wood siding faded to a chalky gray, with rotting planks nailed right across the door. Boards on all the windows, except for one, and not a shard of glass left to be seen, the door frames are hanging, bleached by the sun, a hole punches right through the roof beam. The old cedar shingles covered in moss, some have come loose and are ready to slide, scavengers came through here long, long ago, there’s just moldy floorboards decaying inside. I look at it all rising from the tall grass killed by winter, it still stands in place, beyond that a brown field of corn stubble dominated this cold and vast rural space. Did children once tumble though these tall tufts when this old house was the whole of their world? Were strapping young teens here hopeless in love as they attempted to kiss their first girl? Babies were born and conceived in these rooms, this was a castle a man would defend, now time has left it all shuddered in gloom, derelict, and facing a sorry end. You’d think something that once brought so much joy would leave something much esteemed in its wake, but nothing remains save the wind’s tired noise as the tall walls slowly crumble and break. The farmer should either fix this place up, or strike a match, and burn it to the ground, don’t let it die slow by a thousand cuts because none could be bothered to tear it down.

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

The Old Farmhouse On the Prairie

I see an old house alone on the plains, abandoned a century or more, wood siding faded to a chalky gray, with rotting planks nailed right across the door. Boards on all the windows, except for one, and not a shard of glass left to be seen, the door frames are hanging, bleached by the sun, a hole punches right through the roof beam. The old cedar shingles covered in moss, some have come loose and are ready to slide, scavengers came through here long, long ago, there’s just moldy floorboards decaying inside. I look at it all rising from the tall grass killed by winter, it still stands in place, beyond that a brown field of corn stubble dominated this cold and vast rural space. Did children once tumble though these tall tufts when this old house was the whole of their world? Were strapping young teens here hopeless in love as they attempted to kiss their first girl? Babies were born and conceived in these rooms, this was a castle a man would defend, now time has left it all shuddered in gloom, derelict, and facing a sorry end. You’d think something that once brought so much joy would leave something much esteemed in its wake, but nothing remains save the wind’s tired noise as the tall walls slowly crumble and break. The farmer should either fix this place up, or strike a match, and burn it to the ground, don’t let it die slow by a thousand cuts because none could be bothered to tear it down.