This Time

Time is so interesting. The way some things change. The way some things stay the same. Yesterday, Gart and I drove to St. Louis for the regional marching band competition. We’ve been in this city, for the same purpose, many times before. Sort of…

All three of our children were in the marching band. I guess we were band parents for about ten years collectively. And all three marched in this very same contest.

When Robert, our oldest, marched, the two youngers were here to cheer him on. Even grandparents on a few occasions. And the tradition continued until Ryan, our youngest, was cheered on by Rachel and Robert.

It was strange sitting in those same seats. The same location, same school, atmosphere, etc. The only difference? We had no kids of our own on that field to watch for, cheer for, or find afterward for a photo. Gart is here as administrator. I am along for the ride.

But the funniest thing happened. As we waited to congratulate the directors on a great show, I saw a couple of familiar faces. Two girls in our band, part of the color guard. They were looking in my direction when I heard one of them say-Is that Mrs. Morris?!

These two senior girls remembered their old music teacher from elementary school. I had not seen them for at least six years. But oh, those smiles and hugs were sweet. They may not be my own children, but they helped fill a tiny part of what was missing this time.

Kids or no kids, candy factory is a must stop! 😉❤️


Reposted on The Drabble today. Thank you! I needed the reminder. Perfect timing. ❤️

By Piano girl Lost track of time Wandering in the Shadows between Dark and light This will pass I told myself A feeble attempt At reassurance And …


My Moon

Big, bright
Lighting up
The morning sky
Wish I could
Follow you
See where you
Would lead
Instead of
Turning away
Leaving you
Behind me
If my Dad were here
He would smile and say
Look! There’s Kelley’s moon!
As if I was still
That little girl
Claiming you
As my own
And not a
Grown woman
Driving herself
To work
On this early
You know
Maybe I will
Claim you
As my own
…just for today


Driving past
Planted seeds
Grown into
Spaced rows
They seem
To move in
Fast forward

Walking past
The same
Spaced rows
They seem
To gently sway
With the wind
As if sending
Out a message

Don’t rush by
Take a walk
My rows
Hands held
Back and forth
Back and forth
As the sun
Made in the
For all the

I find driving past farmland intriguing. The visual experience of perfectly spaced rows is not easy to explain. It’s like watching an animated flipbook. Viewing them from this perspective relates to the math/analytical part of my brain, I think. Those even spaces and perfect patterns. Kind of like music.

But there is so much more.

A fact I was reminded of when listening to Fields of Gold by Sting this week. I could picture the perfect fields of barley, but also the beauty and romance. There it was, right in the middle of the analytical. Hmmm…once again, here comes the music.

Fields of Gold by Sting Kelley Morris, piano

How Are You?

So many ways
To say hello
A smile, a wave
Subtle nod
Raised voice
Not due to anger
Simply passing
At a distance
How are you?
Do I really
Want to know?
Will I slow down
And listen?
A choice to
Walk past or
Walk closer
Study expression
Notice position
Or not
I’m fine
Is an honest answer
Or a cover
For the heart
Wanting to say
I could use a friend
Do you have time to talk?

How often do I allow the busyness of each day to hinder me from listening? Listening to myself, family, friends. It is those moments of intentional listening that remind me of the beautiful connections possible in this life. And the knowledge there is power in the simple act of stopping to listen.

A Time to Talk by Robert Frost ❤️

Freeze Frame

Pictures holding
History stored
In memory banks
Called to the surface
In a single snap
Of my fingers
Leaving me
Why that?
Why now?
Why then?
Times I would
Like either
To forever
Forget or
Each frame
Power to
Push me into
A time-warp
Of emotions
I slow down
Pay attention
Long enough
To grasp
This truth-
The past
The present
Either by
Making me
For changes
For growth
Or content
With constants

Personal Collection

I drive past a picture-perfect scene every day. Red barn, green trees and meadows below rolling hills. Offering beauty and reasons for smiling. Looking for the two resident horses is always fun. Sometimes they are close to the road. Other times, resting under the shade of trees.

Recently I began to see additional residents in the field. Deer, from fawn to buck, grazing. Now I look for them each time I pass by. Twice, I witnessed them hopping and playing on the hillside. And grazing under the shade of a sprawling tree.

I attempted a photo from my car once. No luck. Another day, I pulled into a bank parking lot across the street. Snapped several photographs but was unable to fully capture what I saw driving past.

Maybe I will try another location, maybe not. For now, the images remain in my head. And I will keep adding to my collection with each drive past.

Horses rest and roam
Deer leap and play on the hill
Red barn proudly stands

Photo attempt from across the street.

Carry Hope

Do you ever feel
Lose track of time
Or maybe your
Car keys

Focus blurry
Tired body
Tired mind
Too much time
Thinking about
Life’s worries…
Place your hands
Over your eyes
As a shield
But remember to
Spread your fingers
Wide enough for
Tiny particles
Of sun dust
To filter thru
The open spaces
And carry hope
Into your heart

This past weekend, a song I had not heard in a long time came to mind. One of those you are not alone kinds of songs. I don’t know about you, but I needed to hear these words, soak them in and then send them back out. Have a listen. Brother by Need to Breathe

Simply Sunday


Months on the calendar
Always the same
Each day moving
At the same speed
No single one
Able to outrun
Logic says it’s so
So why is it
All of me
From head
To heart
To toes
Feels surprised
When certain
Times arrive?
In the heat
Of summer
It seemed
Would never
Show its face
Yet here it is
Teasing us
With hints of
Cool breezes
And hopes for
Beautiful colors
I’m sure to be
Just as surprised
When it says goodbye

Leg Lifts

I am in the middle of a six-week physical therapy program for my back. It is both necessary and helpful. And it is also kicking my butt while reminding me of my age. My actual age, not the one I imagine.

You are as young as you feel. A common phrase. The truth is our bodies eventually wear out. We can eat right and exercise. Buy products advertising prolonged youth. All the while knowing it is impossible to reverse time.

Instead of fighting to stay young, I’d like to work at aging gracefully. But when my hip begins to cramp in the middle of leg lifts, two sets of fifteen-well, graceful is not the word I would choose.

Powering through those leg lifts did provide a feeling of accomplishment. Accomplished…maybe I need to combine goals. Strive to be gracefully accomplished. I think that sounds better. Even if it means continuing those leg lifts until the cramps in my hip are no more. 😉