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.



Enter Title (Not Required)

Enter Poem or Quote (Required)

Enter Author Name (Not Required)

Move Text:

Heading Text

       
Color:

Main/Poem Text

       
Color:
Background Position Alignment:
  | 
 

Upload Image: 
 


 
 10mb max file size

Use Internet Image:




Like: https://www.poetrysoup.com/images/ce_Finnaly_home_soare.jpg  
Layout:   
www.poetrysoup.com - Create a card from your words, quote, or poetry
Bottle Capped Sunday
After dad's Sunday softball games, us kids would run the bases. Then we'd skip over to the River Inn Tavern. Players would gather in small sweaty clumps. Guzzling life Playing pool Devouring cold cuts Rehashing the scent of the game The dirt on their uniforms, the state of a blue collared art. I collected bottle caps in those days. Had a secret agreement with "Chops." The coach and tavern owner. Every time the cash register rang. The richer him and I became. Big George was the first basemen. Power hitter and power drinker. He was by far. the biggest contributor to my collection. My favorite bottle cap was a Genesse Cream Ale. It was a pretty pale green. Reminded me of a quiet mountain lake. or the eyes of the little blonde a few houses down. Many bottle caps later we would leave the River Inn Tavern. Dads heart brimming with dirt and diamond. My pockets jingling with tiny mountain lakes. Both of us stinking of beer and bargain cigarettes. That was a million Sundays ago, Chops, Big George and my bottle cap collection are gone. My father is on deck. Don't know what became of the little blonde. Who lived a few houses down from my heart.
Copyright © 2024 Anthony Biaanco. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things