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.
Enter Title (Not Required)
Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I blame me brother for the likes of this predicament, when we pub crawled up to Bunyip, and where our night was spent. Thank God I wasn’t in the driver’s seat, ‘cause we wouldn’t be alive, but me brother Ron drives better when his reading’s one point five. And I could see this as he drove between the trees on nature strips, or fish tailing onto footpaths when the rear end slides and slips. He might have hit a fence or two but it don’t worry him or me, for we can put up with a dented car, so long as we get to point B. Point B must be our only goal once we’ve drank an even shout, and grabbed a couple of travelers, then found the doorway out, before driving to a pubs attraction … those two with little peer, which are the hearts of gorgeous women and accommodating beer. It’s marvellous though to find how much the mind is quite secure, when the brain is stone cold sober and the blood is running pure. That was back in Beaconsfield when we had lined up for our first, and found the taste of barrel beer that caused a raging thirst. At least the gentlemen inside us still were holding to the fore. We never chased the married women and we never ever swore, and by the time we drove to Pakenham, what beer that we drank, had vanished from our bodies so there’s nothing in our tank. Now Pakenham is rather large and has so many drinking holes, that crawling ‘round the different bars near stopped our crawling goals, but once the scales have slightly tipped, and good sense seems to flunk, by the time we left for Nar Nar Goon we’re pretty bloody drunk. And making matters worse it seems, when staggering out the door, I knew my head was spinning badly but one thing I never saw … now to justify what I believed, I looked into brother Ronald’s face, declaring that we should go back - there’s no ugly women in that place! And once we shouted Nar Nar Goon and staggered to the car, right now the facts are settling in because the girls are on a par, with everyone from Pakenham, where I never eyed a failure, and the girls at Nar Nar Goon are on a par with Miss Australia. With Garfield a couple of miles away and the road turning to two, Ron swerved around advancing trees and side swiped just a few, but that matters not for with the beer, no pretty maiden should be missed, so we’ve turned to caring loving souls that no woman could resist. Then the publican at Garfield didn’t treat us all too well, he refused to serve us crawling drunks by telling us to go to hell, but this caused debate beside his bar and one we couldn’t beat. We knew we’d lost for in a flash, we’re on our backsides in the street. This action sobered Ron a mite for in his slurring stumbling voice, he suggested that we’ve had enough but I offered one more choice … there are two pubs still in Bunyip; let’s make them our epilogue, so the skid marks leaving Garfield is the path towards more grog. We ordered two pots in the top pub; then we drank another two, and got ourselves into a shout with some drinkers that we knew, I met some women in this pub who were stunning at the least, but I passed out so there and then, my alluring charm had ceased. That’s how it seemed but in the morn, with pounding in my head, I couldn’t focus, think or contemplate, but knew I’m in a bed. I tried bringing one arm to me face, but felt a holding weight, then stared upon this long black hair while in this dreaded state. Now all the women who I’d seen from Pakenham and until now, who I mentioned in my drunken state appeared as if somehow, they were gorgeous belles of beauty, but in the morning light instead, the beer has lied and with its ruse - I’ve seen what’s in me bed! God only knows where Ronny is, but I’ve got to find him quick, and to do that I must slip away before I wake this ugly ‘chick’. Now when I say ugly … man, she’s ugly; the ugliest I’ve ever seen, and I curse the beer that made me think that she’s a beauty queen. I gently pulled my arm away from her and prayed she wouldn’t wake, I slipped me trousers on and then me shirt, quite desperate not to make a single noise so she might rouse, but then me ethics start to float, so I opened up me wallet and pulled out a fifty dollar note. I gave the note a kiss goodbye and paid for what my actions were, then placed it on her bedside table with a hope it might please her, but a woman’s voice beneath the bed revealed a horrid ghastly fate … she grinned and put her hand out - “What about the bridesmaid mate!”
Enter Author Name (Not Required)