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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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Outside Sometimes distant music filters into night on the back porch, where I swing near the red geraniums while facing the fairy lights glowing like fireflies. Hearing the faraway music reminds me of my relatives’ late night parties, listening to the record player and the laughter in my pajamas as the sounds swirl smokily upstairs. I remember walking past the school gym in the antiseptic, echoing hallway, hearing the cheers, the buzzer, the squeak of sneakers skidding, the thudding rhythm of basketballs, but muted, distant, behind heavy closed doors. I think of weddings, sprawling, loud, red faced young graduates in ties clutching beers, women in tight black dresses, the band playing Blister in the Sun, and then stepping outside into the cool air, into the dark protective night, and though you can see the dancing through the lit windows, there is calm outside, away from the din, and the loud music is reduced to muffled, isolated strains. The ice cream truck tinkles its music box melodies in another part of the neighborhood, not mine, magic, far away, elusive. But I am content to hear the faraway tinkling, to observe twinkling Christmas parties from afar. I have always known my place was outside in the dark, in the cool, with the crickets and the fireflies.

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Outside

Outside Sometimes distant music filters into night on the back porch, where I swing near the red geraniums while facing the fairy lights glowing like fireflies. Hearing the faraway music reminds me of my relatives’ late night parties, listening to the record player and the laughter in my pajamas as the sounds swirl smokily upstairs. I remember walking past the school gym in the antiseptic, echoing hallway, hearing the cheers, the buzzer, the squeak of sneakers skidding, the thudding rhythm of basketballs, but muted, distant, behind heavy closed doors. I think of weddings, sprawling, loud, red faced young graduates in ties clutching beers, women in tight black dresses, the band playing Blister in the Sun, and then stepping outside into the cool air, into the dark protective night, and though you can see the dancing through the lit windows, there is calm outside, away from the din, and the loud music is reduced to muffled, isolated strains. The ice cream truck tinkles its music box melodies in another part of the neighborhood, not mine, magic, far away, elusive. But I am content to hear the faraway tinkling, to observe twinkling Christmas parties from afar. I have always known my place was outside in the dark, in the cool, with the crickets and the fireflies.