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. When he was born he was named Reid Gibson, and his parents weren’t the richest of folk, didn’t have money to buy land back east, so off to the great frontier they did go. This was way back in 1823, and young Reid had only just reached age ten, his father found farming prairie a chore, he had never been a diligent man. When in town one trip, buying some supplies, he heard tales of trappers in rocky peaks, starting daydreaming of some quick money, and more news of beaver-trapping did seek. Reid’s mother thought it was all a mirage, but Reid’s father cared little what she thought, it wasn’t a woman’s place to judge men, so new rifles and beaver traps he sought. He took Reid with him, saying it was time for the boy to begin learning a trade, Reid was afraid, and wanted to stay home, but his pa pushed him along anyway. They crossed the plains and by some miracle avoided the Plains nations on their mounts, somehow got their way to Fort Kiowa, where the fur trappers told them, “Turn around. “The ’rees are raiding any who go west, taking scalps from any whites they find there. A man like you will not last very long, for you child at least, you should take care.” But Reid’s father was a confident man, too much considering what he’d achieved, he’d come all this way to make his fortune, and balked at all who told him not to leave. So they went out as the fall settled in, searching the mountains for ponds and for plews, they found one but didn’t have that much look since neither of them knew quite what to do. A week had gone by, the tension did rise, Reid’s father’s frustrations gave way to rage, his father’s shouts gave away where they were, the Arikara came, and not to trade… They ran down his father by the pond shore, struck at him with lance until he fell, then leapt from their horses, cut off his scalp, and celebrated with a piercing yell. Reid tried to hide in a nearby forest, but these warriors were good at their craft, they found him in moments and dragged him out, at his struggles they let out belly laughs. One of them held a hatchet to his throat, the other spoke, then the man abated, they bound up his wrists, threw him on a horse, Reid realized he would be captivated.

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

Color:

Main/Poem Text

Color:

Layout: TallShort

www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry

A Mountain Man's Tale, Part I

I. When he was born he was named Reid Gibson, and his parents weren’t the richest of folk, didn’t have money to buy land back east, so off to the great frontier they did go. This was way back in 1823, and young Reid had only just reached age ten, his father found farming prairie a chore, he had never been a diligent man. When in town one trip, buying some supplies, he heard tales of trappers in rocky peaks, starting daydreaming of some quick money, and more news of beaver-trapping did seek. Reid’s mother thought it was all a mirage, but Reid’s father cared little what she thought, it wasn’t a woman’s place to judge men, so new rifles and beaver traps he sought. He took Reid with him, saying it was time for the boy to begin learning a trade, Reid was afraid, and wanted to stay home, but his pa pushed him along anyway. They crossed the plains and by some miracle avoided the Plains nations on their mounts, somehow got their way to Fort Kiowa, where the fur trappers told them, “Turn around. “The ’rees are raiding any who go west, taking scalps from any whites they find there. A man like you will not last very long, for you child at least, you should take care.” But Reid’s father was a confident man, too much considering what he’d achieved, he’d come all this way to make his fortune, and balked at all who told him not to leave. So they went out as the fall settled in, searching the mountains for ponds and for plews, they found one but didn’t have that much look since neither of them knew quite what to do. A week had gone by, the tension did rise, Reid’s father’s frustrations gave way to rage, his father’s shouts gave away where they were, the Arikara came, and not to trade… They ran down his father by the pond shore, struck at him with lance until he fell, then leapt from their horses, cut off his scalp, and celebrated with a piercing yell. Reid tried to hide in a nearby forest, but these warriors were good at their craft, they found him in moments and dragged him out, at his struggles they let out belly laughs. One of them held a hatchet to his throat, the other spoke, then the man abated, they bound up his wrists, threw him on a horse, Reid realized he would be captivated.