Rambling On

The older I get, the faster time flies
Yet words are slow to appear.
I've spent too much time on quilting,
Not enough on poems this year.
The days go by in a blur.
It's hard to pin my thoughts down.
They bump and tumble along
Taking root in infertile ground,
Trying to sprout and grow to a poem
But too often withering away
For lack of a nurturing hand
To keep them from going astray.
A few, though, have managed to thrive
And made their way to these pages
Crawling along on turtle feet
While time flies into life's next stages.