Rambling On

Time FliesThe older I get, the faster time fliesYet 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 alongTaking root in infertile ground,Trying to sprout and grow to a poemBut too often withering awayFor lack of a nurturing handTo keep them from going astray.A few, though, have managed to thriveAnd made their way to these pagesCrawling along on turtle feetWhile time flies into life’s next stages.