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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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I wore a gray shirt, gray short-pants, and gray socks. The gray school with its gray toilet blocks and gray nuns made my mother buy that gray uniform, which was understandable, because folks like us were supposed to only buy gray clothes anyway, for we all lived in gray towns for fear of going color-blind. It was well known that the Queen, the B.B.C. and all our betters felt that too much color in our lives might lead us to seek impossible rainbows, and so we were taught to know our place on the color chart of life. At ten, mum bought me a pair of long blue jeans. I felt like I could ride a horse, or rock and roll as good as Elvis (he was an American who lived far away in a world of razzle-dazzle grace). The girl next door, without prior warning, took off her long gray dress and put on a short red skirt dotted with colorful butterflies. Neither of us being gray that day, we gravitated together dangerously. Dad warned us not to be too flashy, but we went to the park anyway. We walked there in a hand-held gentleness, and knew then that we were in an English poem, a poem a place that had never been gray but had been withheld from us by those who kept all the colors of poetry away from the likes of us.

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Out of the Gray

I wore a gray shirt, gray short-pants, and gray socks. The gray school with its gray toilet blocks and gray nuns made my mother buy that gray uniform, which was understandable, because folks like us were supposed to only buy gray clothes anyway, for we all lived in gray towns for fear of going color-blind. It was well known that the Queen, the B.B.C. and all our betters felt that too much color in our lives might lead us to seek impossible rainbows, and so we were taught to know our place on the color chart of life. At ten, mum bought me a pair of long blue jeans. I felt like I could ride a horse, or rock and roll as good as Elvis (he was an American who lived far away in a world of razzle-dazzle grace). The girl next door, without prior warning, took off her long gray dress and put on a short red skirt dotted with colorful butterflies. Neither of us being gray that day, we gravitated together dangerously. Dad warned us not to be too flashy, but we went to the park anyway. We walked there in a hand-held gentleness, and knew then that we were in an English poem, a poem a place that had never been gray but had been withheld from us by those who kept all the colors of poetry away from the likes of us.