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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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GTF Wizened skin like burnished leather Thin, grey and long, disheveled hair Clear, sharp blue eyes that seem to stare Through sun scorched face, alert, aware A ‘lived-In’ face that’s so expressive Tales he tells read like a missive His arms and hands he flails about To all he jests, he seems to shout Belying age with youthful vigour He starts his day with seeming rigour But, easy going, he always jokes With folk at whom, light fun, he pokes He’s up each morning before the dawn Striding, planning, never forlorn Before sunrise you’ll hear with luck His famous catch-phrase, “Get Tae F***!” He’s worked on rigs for oh, so long With everyone he gets along On the “fine old lady” Stena Clyde No deference – ALL he does deride From owner, manager and high paid “suits” To lowly boys who clean the boots The tone the same, The grin, the look, The cheeky laugh, the “Get Tae F***!” Sub zero frost or tropical heat His ardour you will find hard to beat Old habits die hard they say Not his – he does them anyway! Does a place exist he’s never been? That has a port that’s never seen This tall slim figure filled with pluck Or heard his raucous, “Get Tae F***!” They say he’s always been a sailor From Antarctic wastes upon an ancient whaler 15 years old in the South Atlantic A hardy life, forget romantic! Steam driven ships before motor’s advent He sailed near and far. Came and went. A story true with each port of call His audience he holds in thrall But all through this, both feet aground Though invitations still abound To high profile golf tournaments The best hospitality at these events He mixes with the best of them The rich and famous golfing men Yet on the course when he mis-hits his ball Not “fore” but G.T.F. to all And so it seems his time has come To rest upon his laurels some He’ll sure be missed – God Speed, Good Luck It’s been a pleasure Jimmy, “Get Tae F***!” No dismissive snort from any here From us, a greeting, a hearty cheer Received with grace, a smile - a look. You grin then tell us, “Get Tae F***!”

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Gtf

GTF Wizened skin like burnished leather Thin, grey and long, disheveled hair Clear, sharp blue eyes that seem to stare Through sun scorched face, alert, aware A ‘lived-In’ face that’s so expressive Tales he tells read like a missive His arms and hands he flails about To all he jests, he seems to shout Belying age with youthful vigour He starts his day with seeming rigour But, easy going, he always jokes With folk at whom, light fun, he pokes He’s up each morning before the dawn Striding, planning, never forlorn Before sunrise you’ll hear with luck His famous catch-phrase, “Get Tae F***!” He’s worked on rigs for oh, so long With everyone he gets along On the “fine old lady” Stena Clyde No deference – ALL he does deride From owner, manager and high paid “suits” To lowly boys who clean the boots The tone the same, The grin, the look, The cheeky laugh, the “Get Tae F***!” Sub zero frost or tropical heat His ardour you will find hard to beat Old habits die hard they say Not his – he does them anyway! Does a place exist he’s never been? That has a port that’s never seen This tall slim figure filled with pluck Or heard his raucous, “Get Tae F***!” They say he’s always been a sailor From Antarctic wastes upon an ancient whaler 15 years old in the South Atlantic A hardy life, forget romantic! Steam driven ships before motor’s advent He sailed near and far. Came and went. A story true with each port of call His audience he holds in thrall But all through this, both feet aground Though invitations still abound To high profile golf tournaments The best hospitality at these events He mixes with the best of them The rich and famous golfing men Yet on the course when he mis-hits his ball Not “fore” but G.T.F. to all And so it seems his time has come To rest upon his laurels some He’ll sure be missed – God Speed, Good Luck It’s been a pleasure Jimmy, “Get Tae F***!” No dismissive snort from any here From us, a greeting, a hearty cheer Received with grace, a smile - a look. You grin then tell us, “Get Tae F***!”