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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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* Examples for the contest Jack and Jill (the real story) "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after..." Of course, neither wanted to climb that bloody hill at all. Day after day mother would send them to fetch a pail of water, correction, pails of water. Why, it was enough to drive any bloke mad. And now on Sunday, for gawd's sake! Everyone knows that Sunday is for resting, not fetching! Here he was watching his favorite cartoon on the telly, whence came that awful shriek: "Jack, fetch me a pail of water, NOW!" Good gawd, she screamed like a bloody banshee! And why did he always have to take his brat of a sister with him anyway? She never carried the pail of water, he did. Her part seemed to be nothing more than to make sure that he actually climbed that stupid hill instead of wandering off. Along the way she would taunt him with things like: "Poor Jack, poor Jack, up the bloody hill you go lad. Now do as your told or I'll tell mummy you've been bad." Well, he wasn't having it today, not on his rest day! So up the hill they went and just about the time that she started on with her annoying rant, he began to whistle so loudly that he couldn't hear a word she said. Her face got as red as a tomato and he could swear that he saw steam billowing out of her ears. Finally, they reached the top of the hill. He filled up the pail with water from the well and began his descent downward when, at that very moment, the little wench stuck out her foot and tripped him, so that both he and the pail of water went tumbling down the hill. The sight of it caused Jill to laugh so hard that she lost her balance and therewith came tumbling after. Neither got supper that night! Now you know the true story of Jack and Jill. You know, they say the devil is in the bloody details. Bonus Sample: Rock a bye baby (aka The day Mother flipped) "Rock a bye baby in the treetop when the wind blows the cradle will rock when the bough breaks the cradle will fall and down will come baby cradle and all..." *As told by eldest brother Melvin The memories of that day (sigh), so hard! We were, for all intents and purposes, a normal family. Dad worked for the railroad and wasn't home much, but we knew he loved us. I was the oldest of twelve children, well, eleven now. Mother seemed to pop one about every year, except for the year she had the nervous breakdown. That came after number five. As the years went by mom seemed to lose her grasp on reality. And her temper became hotter than sweet Georgia asphalt in August! It wasn't dramatic at first, a pan thrown here, a knife thrown there. We all got good at ducking (which helped us kids excel in dodgeball, so it wasn't all bad). But I suspect she finally went over the edge after little Tina was born, formerly known as number twelve. It was a wintry Friday morning. Tina was six months old that day. A colicy baby, she cried day and night. Combine that with the impish antics of all the other children (excepting yours truly), and it's not hard to understand why mother finally flipped. There was on old oak out back with branches for climbing. We kids had spent many a summer day climbing, hanging, goofing around on that old tree. But what I saw that Friday morn, gosh, it's hard to describe. First, I heard this awful shriek: "AAARRGGH! I can't stand it anymore!" Then I watched from my bedroom window as mother exited the house with baby in tow, heading for the oak. I'd never seen mother climb a tree before, not sure she ever had, but her agility on this ominous day was spectacular! There she was, climbing, inching her way to the top, baby in one arm, hoisting herself with the other. When she was near the top, she pulled out of her sack a small hammock, tied it between two boughs, and laid the baby in it. Then the unthinkable happened! She let out a maniacal laugh and rocked that cradle like nobody's business. You know the rest of the story. Mother's being well cared for at the asylum. Father found for us a new mommy, her name is Brunhilde. She likes to dress in black and hang out in the forest. But only when there's a full moon. As for us kids, we haven't climbed that old oak tree in years. Father says he's gonna cut it down some day...

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Jack and Jill - The True Story

* Examples for the contest Jack and Jill (the real story) "Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water Jack fell down and broke his crown and Jill came tumbling after..." Of course, neither wanted to climb that bloody hill at all. Day after day mother would send them to fetch a pail of water, correction, pails of water. Why, it was enough to drive any bloke mad. And now on Sunday, for gawd's sake! Everyone knows that Sunday is for resting, not fetching! Here he was watching his favorite cartoon on the telly, whence came that awful shriek: "Jack, fetch me a pail of water, NOW!" Good gawd, she screamed like a bloody banshee! And why did he always have to take his brat of a sister with him anyway? She never carried the pail of water, he did. Her part seemed to be nothing more than to make sure that he actually climbed that stupid hill instead of wandering off. Along the way she would taunt him with things like: "Poor Jack, poor Jack, up the bloody hill you go lad. Now do as your told or I'll tell mummy you've been bad." Well, he wasn't having it today, not on his rest day! So up the hill they went and just about the time that she started on with her annoying rant, he began to whistle so loudly that he couldn't hear a word she said. Her face got as red as a tomato and he could swear that he saw steam billowing out of her ears. Finally, they reached the top of the hill. He filled up the pail with water from the well and began his descent downward when, at that very moment, the little wench stuck out her foot and tripped him, so that both he and the pail of water went tumbling down the hill. The sight of it caused Jill to laugh so hard that she lost her balance and therewith came tumbling after. Neither got supper that night! Now you know the true story of Jack and Jill. You know, they say the devil is in the bloody details. Bonus Sample: Rock a bye baby (aka The day Mother flipped) "Rock a bye baby in the treetop when the wind blows the cradle will rock when the bough breaks the cradle will fall and down will come baby cradle and all..." *As told by eldest brother Melvin The memories of that day (sigh), so hard! We were, for all intents and purposes, a normal family. Dad worked for the railroad and wasn't home much, but we knew he loved us. I was the oldest of twelve children, well, eleven now. Mother seemed to pop one about every year, except for the year she had the nervous breakdown. That came after number five. As the years went by mom seemed to lose her grasp on reality. And her temper became hotter than sweet Georgia asphalt in August! It wasn't dramatic at first, a pan thrown here, a knife thrown there. We all got good at ducking (which helped us kids excel in dodgeball, so it wasn't all bad). But I suspect she finally went over the edge after little Tina was born, formerly known as number twelve. It was a wintry Friday morning. Tina was six months old that day. A colicy baby, she cried day and night. Combine that with the impish antics of all the other children (excepting yours truly), and it's not hard to understand why mother finally flipped. There was on old oak out back with branches for climbing. We kids had spent many a summer day climbing, hanging, goofing around on that old tree. But what I saw that Friday morn, gosh, it's hard to describe. First, I heard this awful shriek: "AAARRGGH! I can't stand it anymore!" Then I watched from my bedroom window as mother exited the house with baby in tow, heading for the oak. I'd never seen mother climb a tree before, not sure she ever had, but her agility on this ominous day was spectacular! There she was, climbing, inching her way to the top, baby in one arm, hoisting herself with the other. When she was near the top, she pulled out of her sack a small hammock, tied it between two boughs, and laid the baby in it. Then the unthinkable happened! She let out a maniacal laugh and rocked that cradle like nobody's business. You know the rest of the story. Mother's being well cared for at the asylum. Father found for us a new mommy, her name is Brunhilde. She likes to dress in black and hang out in the forest. But only when there's a full moon. As for us kids, we haven't climbed that old oak tree in years. Father says he's gonna cut it down some day...