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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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Whose idea it was, An early morning picnic by the beach! The air is cold and the sea is loud With the sea gulls all clattering my husband fancies taking a dip with the children all clamoring. as the dog runs chasing rabbits the wind’s thick as soup. While I lay here in the picnic mat alone Brushing sand off my dress, There is a click and I look up And see my daughter with the camera. I frown and send her away Wondering could it get any worse, Before I could finish the thought I look down , see the tiny ants, Good, good ; the ants are here ,I say I didn’t even know there were ants in beaches I shake them off while I constantly wonder Whose idea it was; whose indeed. Twenty years later in the basement, Going through some stuff, I find the old photograph Of the Sunday morning In the photo , I see my husband in his shorts Ready for a swim, My three children , the dog Everything I remember clearly, It was the one my daughter took; of our early morning picnic by the sea. My husband’s been gone four years now, My kids are busy making houses and memories with wonderful families and happy lives, all in their own new worlds they all looked so happy while I was galled all of it a lifetime ago, in that Sunday morning of my life as I close my eyes and go back there and reminisce, of that morning by the picnic mat, with heavy baskets in my guard, I feel the breeze and look ahead In the fresh sun I see my husband, young and happy I look at the kids and see time flying away With the sand Blowing in the wind I look at them playing And say, ‘never grow up’ In the moment, twenty years of late, by the Sunday morning I look at the sea and smile on the beach, And I am happy for a while.
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