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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Behind the magnolia curtain, childhood ne’er knew. Drawn to Sleepy Hollow - over the river, really mountains; and the thruway, to Grandma’s we go. Magnificent magnolias, bountiful with perfume, born when I was steeped in maturity. Now I know the shiny leaves that tremble in hot ‘lanta breeze. Whilst the ghosts of the Catskills clip clop; shadows that fell the canopy of treetops; the Borscht Belt entertaining with neon signs, drawing my eyes. Crépe myrtles connect the present and past, I’d not notice the smooth legs until the gypsy eyes, of a poet, were mesmerized by these sprightly trees. Gone With the Wind comes to life as I entered North Carolina life, bigger than life; Miss Daisy, was driving me crazy; the drama of a small town, I’d ne’er known, now bit my hands, slammed my fingers in the door, waged jealousy and more; brought to the surface my lack of skill and sins. I gained my bearings, muscled my spirituality, in other words prayed, bumbled, hurrayed any inroads, gained love and fascination for these characters. First thing said to me by the closest coworker: “I know how much you make!” ‘Well, howdy do, and bless your heart’ - that last bit, the burn I learned in the deep South. You see in the Catskill mountains, we lob heads off, well, at least the Headless Horseman does the dirty work. Sweet smell of magnolias, Southern belles, mean old South; still I met my best friend as I landed in Marietta - I admire her, she’s kind, and wise, perfect in my eyes.
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