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.



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
Two Dads -- 1st Half
Here's why this was necessary... This is, as indicated, the 1st HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. The 2nd half had to be posted separately due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations. No other way I could manage to make it happen... Thanks for listening (or reading), I'd just awoke from dozing off - a tendency I have - and found myself distracted, on my way upstairs to bed, By a...not-quite-far-enough-away disturbing conversation...and wished like hell I'd never heard the words my mother said! “You know how strong our love was, Kyle...and Danny knew it too...and had I known the baby I was carrying wasn't his, I swear - I'd never 've married him...and though I've often tried convincing him that Tommy isn't yours - he's sure he is!” With “Tommy” being me, of course, her words were coldly telling...telling me the man I'd always thought to be my dad Very likely wasn't...and that, possibly, this - “Kyle” - was plotting with my mother to replace the one I had! “Meet me down at Jasper's - 7:30 - Friday night. I'll text a couple pictures that will help to prove my claim, But when you see the album, Kyle...from way back then 'til now...you'll understand the reason why - and how - I chose his name. “Even guys as slow as you know - Tom - is short for Thomas...and making use of your last name,” my mother glibly quipped, “Was, for me, a means for hanging on to what we'd had,” when, suddenly - trying to climb a step -- with teary eyes -- I tripped! Afraid she'd heard the noise that I had accidentally made, and hearing...as I quickly scaled the few remaining steps... Her clearly, and more loudly, say, “I'm sorry, Mr. Wilson...the only authors, currently, our writing school accepts “Are those who write for children. But...good luck with your career.” After which she hung the phone up... raced from out the den... And...as I quietly watched her from behind my bedroom door...scanned the room and stairs where - seconds earlier - I had been. Lying awake for several hours, I searched for explanations, deciphering all scenarios in every way I could, Hoping all the while to learn, despite the way it seemed, I'd find - by simply trusting her - that I'd --- misunderstood. Hardly having slept at all, I showered and dressed for school, then, skipping breakfast, hollered, “Mom, I don't have time to eat.” What she didn't know was that I'd heard her 3 particulars that sat the stage for her - and a guy that she'd called Kyle - to meet! Jasper's was a tacky tavern just outside of Baxter, and knowing Friday night, at 7:30, I'd be free... Whether she and Kyle approved...I was going to be there...with neither one suspecting they might - wind up meeting me! Assuming she'd retaliate, due to my deception, and knowing how embarrassing my catching them would be, I wandered in at seven...wearing a cowboy hat an' shades...and picked a real dark booth where I'd be difficult to see. Sure enough - at 7:30 - in my mother strolled, then headed for the darkest corner...just as I had done. Two / three minutes later, this gigantic dude walks in...far too big, I thought, for a kid my size to be his son... An' heads - of course - to the poorly-lighted booth my mom had picked, softly says... “My God, Marlene...you haven't changed at all,” Slides in close beside her, and then -- taking up her hand -- looks into her glimmering eyes -- as Mom began to bawl. He put an arm around her as she dropped against his chest, then coaxed his face just close enough to kiss him on the cheek. Gazing at him fondly, she replied, “Must be the dark,” and...after they had finished chuckling...she began to speak. Opening up the album that she'd brought for him to see, Lyle produced his cell phone, to provide the needed light, And as they slowly made their way through me - from birth 'til now - I felt I'd likely never seen a more heartwarming sight. Lyle would turn the pages as my Mom would fill him in on what the actual occasions were, and, at the time, my age, Sometimes softly sniffling, and - on more than one occasion - dabbing, with her handkerchief, their teardrops from a page. Now...see 2nd Half on Soup...
Copyright © 2024 Mark Stellinga. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs