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 Lisa and I had been watching some boys strut about, as they played soccer, in their little shorts, in the freezing cold. It’s an old animal story. The game ended, or it was intermission and about twenty guys came streaming into the cafeteria, their cleats sounding like a hundred keyboards clacking all at once. They were laughing, joking and pushing each other around with rowdy, coiled, unexpended kinetic energy. They were scoping-out the area too, almost subconsciously, like their bronze man ancestors surveying the grassy savannas for threat. As they strolled in, Lisa and I exchanged looks. Eye-contact can be its own form of complicated language. “Welcome to the monkey-house” we thought, rolling our eyes. I recognized one of the guys, from a shared chemistry class. He’s tall, slim and lanky, with chin length blonde hair tucked behind his ears and a bit of facial stubble. Ethan, Adam? I couldn’t remember. “One’s coming over,” Lisa said, turning a little away and sipping her coffee. “Morning!” he said, with his winning smile. “What'd you think of that test?” He said, putting one hand in his pocket like a model and making the most disarming eye contact. “Hard,” I said, with a shrug, Lisa was giving him an appraising look from behind her blonde curtain of hair. “Aww, come on,” he said, with an aw-shucks grin that looked like something from a Brad Pitt movie. When was the last time I saw Peter - my hypothalamus seemed to ask me with an electric tingle. There’s something rickety and flexible about resolutions, they melt, like ice cream in the right heat - like the warmth of a look, or the thermal rush of a provocative thought. Impure thoughts are like excited molecules, they bubble, and mine were suddenly on the edge of boiling. I hadn’t expected it, I didn’t trust it, but I liked it. I reached out for my coffee and looked down as I felt myself blush. Our conversation had lasted long enough to draw the curious attention of a couple of the other guys who came to jostle and crowd Ethan-Adam’s game. “Woah!” one of them said, looking at Lisa. “When you walk in a building, do the sprinklers go off?” The other newbie laughed. Lisa waved the complement away, unsmiling, like an annoying and meaningless buzz. “All right, all right,” Ethan-Adam said, with a grimacing grin, turning and corralling the other two guys away from the table with outstretched arms. “See ya,” he said, looking back over his shoulder with a “sorry about that,” nod. “Who was THAT?” Lisa asked, almost admiringly. “I’m not sure,” I said, trying to remember the rollcall, “Ethan.. Adam.. one of those.”
Enter Author Name (Not Required)