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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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My Mother’s Hands I remember a quick moment in my 20’s I was getting ready for my first “big girl” job halfway across the country from my childhood home. I looked down from my reflection in the mirror and the hands I saw were not my own. There attached to my 20-something-year-old body I saw with certainty my Mother’s hands. So vivid it shocked me I quickly raised my hands to inspect them thoroughly. It’s not possible my mind raced, and after looking them over for a few good minutes, the feeling faded and my hands were just hands again. Now, In my late 30’s I have accepted my hands as they are. They have changed to resemble the hands of my mother more so now. Any denial that once was, has found itself drowned by a pool of appreciation that has poured over my vision and opened my eyes. Of course, I have my Mother’s hands... I have birthed two children of my own. These hands have given many baths, rocked little souls to sleep, fixed countless boo boos, and helped to create many memories. Today, I look at my hands, and my vision blurs as tears of gratitude well in my eyes. I have my mother’s hands. She arrives at my home to watch my babies now two years old and eight. I find my eyes falling on her hands. “Wait” the voice in my head says as my mind compares the many differences I see in our hands up close. Then it hits me. A warm wave of emotion washes through my body cresting in a smile that breaks slowly across my face. My cheeks raised and still, every moment reinforcing what is to become beautifully defined smile lines. Maybe someday I will be lucky enough to have the hands of a Nana.

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My Mother's Hands

My Mother’s Hands I remember a quick moment in my 20’s I was getting ready for my first “big girl” job halfway across the country from my childhood home. I looked down from my reflection in the mirror and the hands I saw were not my own. There attached to my 20-something-year-old body I saw with certainty my Mother’s hands. So vivid it shocked me I quickly raised my hands to inspect them thoroughly. It’s not possible my mind raced, and after looking them over for a few good minutes, the feeling faded and my hands were just hands again. Now, In my late 30’s I have accepted my hands as they are. They have changed to resemble the hands of my mother more so now. Any denial that once was, has found itself drowned by a pool of appreciation that has poured over my vision and opened my eyes. Of course, I have my Mother’s hands... I have birthed two children of my own. These hands have given many baths, rocked little souls to sleep, fixed countless boo boos, and helped to create many memories. Today, I look at my hands, and my vision blurs as tears of gratitude well in my eyes. I have my mother’s hands. She arrives at my home to watch my babies now two years old and eight. I find my eyes falling on her hands. “Wait” the voice in my head says as my mind compares the many differences I see in our hands up close. Then it hits me. A warm wave of emotion washes through my body cresting in a smile that breaks slowly across my face. My cheeks raised and still, every moment reinforcing what is to become beautifully defined smile lines. Maybe someday I will be lucky enough to have the hands of a Nana.