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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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The winter of 1621 in Plymouth was harsh as could be, The Pilgrims were sick and sorry they'd come, They missed their warm English beds and their tea. The still ambulatory shivered and shuffled about, As they grinched, and they groused, and they cried, 'til of 132 Mayflower passengers and crew, All but fifty-three of them died. The following spring a kind Pawtuxet brave Took pity upon the poor sods. Squanto showed them how to plant barley and corn And fun things they could do with the cobs. That fall when the bountiful harvest drew near, They searched out their new Indian friend, Squanto, To ask if he'd teach them to make barley beer, And he could have, but he didn't want to. They decided, instead, to have a great feast To show thanks for the mercies of Heaven. They sent an invite to every redskin and white, Festivities commencing at seven. It would be an outdoor, potluck affair With sack races and piggyback rides. If the guests would kindly bring entrees and snacks, Their hosts would donate the sides. On the day of the fete, the Wampanoag arrived, Chief Massasoit leading the way. They brought venison, turkey, Lobsters, duck, goose, and clams, Each neatly arranged on a tray. At the colonists' table the selections were specious, No pastries or baked goods, no dairies. The best they came up with were bland little dishes Of vegetables, cornpone, and dried berries. They played a few games, and sang a few hymns, Traded recipes, stories, and jokes. The Pilgrims were dour and stolidly grim; The natives were more festive folks. As they started to eat, Capt. Jones jumped to his feet Crying "Thank God for His merciful bounty!" And the Pilgrims chimed in with a thunderous "Amen!" That was echoed all over the county. The Indians looked at each other and shrugged, If they understood, they very well hid it. Why thank sour gods for saving these clods When it clearly was Squanto who did it? Author's note: In 1862 President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed Thanksgiving an annual national holiday. The American Wild Turkey Society (A.W.T.S.) was founded shortly thereafter and immediately applied for political asylum. The following year, just before Congress adjourned for the Thanksgiving holidays, the petition was denied. Disclaimer: This piece, dear reader, in addition to, hopefully, giving some small measure of amusement, also serves to explain why I was only allowed to teach English and not history.

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Rehashing History: Squanto and the Pilgrims, the First Thanksgiving

The winter of 1621 in Plymouth was harsh as could be, The Pilgrims were sick and sorry they'd come, They missed their warm English beds and their tea. The still ambulatory shivered and shuffled about, As they grinched, and they groused, and they cried, 'til of 132 Mayflower passengers and crew, All but fifty-three of them died. The following spring a kind Pawtuxet brave Took pity upon the poor sods. Squanto showed them how to plant barley and corn And fun things they could do with the cobs. That fall when the bountiful harvest drew near, They searched out their new Indian friend, Squanto, To ask if he'd teach them to make barley beer, And he could have, but he didn't want to. They decided, instead, to have a great feast To show thanks for the mercies of Heaven. They sent an invite to every redskin and white, Festivities commencing at seven. It would be an outdoor, potluck affair With sack races and piggyback rides. If the guests would kindly bring entrees and snacks, Their hosts would donate the sides. On the day of the fete, the Wampanoag arrived, Chief Massasoit leading the way. They brought venison, turkey, Lobsters, duck, goose, and clams, Each neatly arranged on a tray. At the colonists' table the selections were specious, No pastries or baked goods, no dairies. The best they came up with were bland little dishes Of vegetables, cornpone, and dried berries. They played a few games, and sang a few hymns, Traded recipes, stories, and jokes. The Pilgrims were dour and stolidly grim; The natives were more festive folks. As they started to eat, Capt. Jones jumped to his feet Crying "Thank God for His merciful bounty!" And the Pilgrims chimed in with a thunderous "Amen!" That was echoed all over the county. The Indians looked at each other and shrugged, If they understood, they very well hid it. Why thank sour gods for saving these clods When it clearly was Squanto who did it? Author's note: In 1862 President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed Thanksgiving an annual national holiday. The American Wild Turkey Society (A.W.T.S.) was founded shortly thereafter and immediately applied for political asylum. The following year, just before Congress adjourned for the Thanksgiving holidays, the petition was denied. Disclaimer: This piece, dear reader, in addition to, hopefully, giving some small measure of amusement, also serves to explain why I was only allowed to teach English and not history.