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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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I was five years old; it was my first encounter with death there, in the funeral parlor. I did not understand anything about death- but I knew my uncle was inside that box; my mama’s brother, and son of my grandparents. He had served in World War II; a pilot in the Air Force, who had completed many heroic missions. Now, he was in that box. But then I was just a little girl; lots of sobbing and moaning- family- not wanting that box closed! I remember the anguish, hysterics- my mama, my grandparents, and that box; they would not let my family open it, to see him one last time. There was a flag on it; military men guarded it closely, and it stayed tightly shut. The fear of that box has haunted me all through my life. My little girl's inner voice always asked, "What mystery was inside that box?" "Why wouldn't they open it?" "Was something horrible in there?" I got older and began to think; perhaps that box was empty, or what was inside should not be seen? But still, the feeling remained. Death, and that box held the missing truth about our first casualty of war- never to be known; our loved one, never to be seen again- at least, not on this Earth. But every year I pray to say- "dear Uncle, thank you for your service."

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The Box

I was five years old; it was my first encounter with death there, in the funeral parlor. I did not understand anything about death- but I knew my uncle was inside that box; my mama’s brother, and son of my grandparents. He had served in World War II; a pilot in the Air Force, who had completed many heroic missions. Now, he was in that box. But then I was just a little girl; lots of sobbing and moaning- family- not wanting that box closed! I remember the anguish, hysterics- my mama, my grandparents, and that box; they would not let my family open it, to see him one last time. There was a flag on it; military men guarded it closely, and it stayed tightly shut. The fear of that box has haunted me all through my life. My little girl's inner voice always asked, "What mystery was inside that box?" "Why wouldn't they open it?" "Was something horrible in there?" I got older and began to think; perhaps that box was empty, or what was inside should not be seen? But still, the feeling remained. Death, and that box held the missing truth about our first casualty of war- never to be known; our loved one, never to be seen again- at least, not on this Earth. But every year I pray to say- "dear Uncle, thank you for your service."