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 the photo graphic, 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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True Praise
I used to look at your wrinkly hands And see the veins follow routes like a map Your fingers shook like a spayed chihuahua on the piano keys Demonstrating the chord in which I was supposed to play after you I was thinking instead about the stool we were sharing How old and fragile the wooden piece was The green-blue floral padding faded and worn The chipped, wobbly legs That creaky sound when you repositioned... And I was praying it wouldn't collapse under our bodies Your voice was gentle and calm Softly pushing me back to my practice and my fingers played that bright G Chord “Very good,” You praised with a smile Your voice so small and lightly faded But still loving and pleasant You explained to me arpeggios and broken chords And I was glad it was you explaining it I remember yelling at my dad And throwing a big tantrum over playing “Allouette” His straight harsh voice cut my fingers off the keys As he ordered me to pay attention Watching his hairy fingers demonstrate the left hand And then the right Pressing loudly and ramming the song into my every being And I remembered I was never concerned about making him angry I would laugh if he made a mistake in teaching Or if he stumbled on his words - which was frustratingly rare I would scream if he corrected me And yet I was determined for his praise That he never gave Your son loved music like you And he wanted me to love it just like him In an annoyed kind of way, I obliged But I would make him suffer for forcing it on me Even if I couldn't deny it was something I would always love We never have our piano lessons anymore, Grandma But I will never forget how you taught me That stool remains in the room It hasn't been sat on for days And it took far more than mere days To receive from your son…true praise But that’s okay I will pray it collapses under his body
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