Father Peregrine’s musingsfrom that Martian midlandmoved me.  How often I wallowin mindin wordin deed. Helpless in my disgust.  Yet, when I call out,He scoops me;my mindmy wordmy deed. Alas! I was not made forthe fudge bowl.  Featured Download: If you would like a resource to help you write poetry like this, CLICK HERE.