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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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To You, My Dear John I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind Passing, quietly, across the gentle seas of the gods. I am a poet, not ‘cause I was born a poet, but I am A poet by sole virtue of what my aging brain sees. And it controls me more often, than my contrite heart. Is it pretty good or not, the mind first before the heart? I have been sitting on this board for a year or two And I have laid my emotions on forms: if not all, On some of them. Oh by the way, I mastered none. I managed though, to stand on the first step of the ladder Of poetry, yet still, I err musing on foreign tongue I loved: The wording, the punctuation, the grammar, to list a few. As you read this, my contrite heart bleeds--- For I will never make it to the pinnacle of my passion. Surely, I wrote to you, not because I am whining Or maybe I am, but one thing I do certainly know Is that I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind Passing, quietly, across the seas of the gentle gods To ask you, Sir John, the kind-hearted god of soup whisperers Am I doing the right thing or I am just wasting my time? Lastly, do you think to have come this far is an achievement? Sincerely, EPS Your avid fan, across the gentle seas of the gods

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A Letter To Sir John Heck

To You, My Dear John I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind Passing, quietly, across the gentle seas of the gods. I am a poet, not ‘cause I was born a poet, but I am A poet by sole virtue of what my aging brain sees. And it controls me more often, than my contrite heart. Is it pretty good or not, the mind first before the heart? I have been sitting on this board for a year or two And I have laid my emotions on forms: if not all, On some of them. Oh by the way, I mastered none. I managed though, to stand on the first step of the ladder Of poetry, yet still, I err musing on foreign tongue I loved: The wording, the punctuation, the grammar, to list a few. As you read this, my contrite heart bleeds--- For I will never make it to the pinnacle of my passion. Surely, I wrote to you, not because I am whining Or maybe I am, but one thing I do certainly know Is that I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind Passing, quietly, across the seas of the gentle gods To ask you, Sir John, the kind-hearted god of soup whisperers Am I doing the right thing or I am just wasting my time? Lastly, do you think to have come this far is an achievement? Sincerely, EPS Your avid fan, across the gentle seas of the gods