[Reata Dils McDonough (b.

1886) was the maternal grandmother of Dwight Murphey, and he is adding this section to his collected writings website as a way to perpetuate her splendid poetry. There was no Copyright stated in her book of poems, Autumn Leaves. At the end of her collection, she included three poems by her husband Frank McDonough, Jr, [1885-1964) and they appear here.] Autumn Leaves Reata D. McDonough

ALWAYS TODAY This is today. All that is, is yours. All other days have passed Into eternity. This is today. Let its laughter ring Or let its tears flow, Where all the other tears have gone So will the laughter go. This is today. Dread not its passing, for from The vastness of the great unknown Will come another day of which We can then say, this is today. NOT ALONE Sweet earthy perfume filled the air And throaty warblers whispered over head.

I walked through Springtime gentleness Beholding life arising from the dead. I laughed as sun and shadows soft Danced on and paved my sylvan way. There I seemed to feel you near And heard the words I longed to hear you say. I felt your kiss upon my lips, Upon my cheek, my eyes, my hair. I felt your beating heart next mine And, dearest one, I knew that you were there. The fleeting hour sped all too fast Although my heart bade it remain For there within the wilderness I walked beside you once again. Then shadows deepened all about, The throaty songs were twilight evening prayer. I turned my weary footsteps home With saddened heart because I left my dream out there.

EMPTY SHELLS The sands are strewn with empty shells, Each one of which at some time housed a living thing Which built and dwelt within its own confines, not free Until at last it broke the bonds And drifted out to sea To join the vastness of the deep, The shell cast off, the sand its destiny.

And so it is with all of life, though it be housed In shell or plant or flesh and bone. It grows and builds and lives therein And then when life, the soul, is freed To wander on its way sublime, It leaves an empty shell cast off, to join With others on the sands of time. THE CHARRED PINE TREE Through countless moons my arms have cradled snow And gold of sunrise and dawns bright play, To shelter of my branches bending low

From stalking beasts came breathless, fleeing prey. Through long, long years my arms were raised in prayer, Waved cooling breezes over fevered earth. My seeds have scattered, made the world more fair With all the trees which they have given birth.

But now I wear the blackened shroud of death. The wild things which I harbored turn from me. The birds flee from my hungry, reaching arms For now I stand in gruesome effigy. The acrid burn of smoke sears every breath, White ash conceals the paths where wild things trod. Though dead I speak, my end shall not be death. My shriveled finger points to stars and God.

GETHSEMENE I walked through dark Gethsemene But did not kneel to pray I saw the Savior kneeling there And silently turned away. Oh, let this cup pass from me,

I heard the passioned plea And from His prayer He then walked forth To Face Eternity. He drained the cup and so must I. My heart joined His in prayer For in the Garden as I walked I heard Him praying there. PROOF He gazed in awe upon the lofty crags And glinting snow on spired peaks, On scenes of earth no man had trod. In whispered tones quite like a prayer He spoke as to himself and said And there are those who say There is no God. MOUNTAINS Here God laid His land in tenderness On wondrous beauty He had made; Great mountain heights with crimson crags

And hidden tree-rimmed emerald glade; Snow tipped peaks which flame with dawn Mid soundless anthems to the day, Where sunlight bursts like cymbals clash As dark of night time steals away. His hand caressed and blessed these lofty heights, It lingered fondly, lovingly And then it lifted as He said Oh earth, my grandest work I give to thee, Here clouds will rest exhausted by the storm And wild things seek for refuge on thy breast, And man will seek the fullness of thy gifts, And in thy solitude his soul will rest. LITTLE THINGS One fleeting smile May lighten a day For one who feels alone, One cheery word sounds like a song That echoes on and on. One helping hand

To one needing help May act as the touch of God Making light along a dark way That some weary soul must trod. IT IS GOD A gentle voice speaks to my soul As I in wonder see The jagged lightning rend the sky And wind shake every tree, And small birds throats swell full with song And fragile ferns lift heavy clod That voice stills all my questioning And whispers It is God. WRITING ON THE WALL The hand of Fate writes on the wall of Time which stands Between this hour and those which are to be. From word to word with steady stroke it writes; Lifts up the veil of mystery revealing lights Of Joy or shadows of Despair,

Spelling out each life from cradle to the grave. No rage, no plea, can change or move that hand Or blur the words which it has written For what is there spells Destiny. DESTINY Like rivers searching for the sea Are human lives and destiny. ********* All rivers wind and bend and turn As tho indifferent to certain place But thru it all the ocean waits To claim its own at last in boundless space. As on a chart which Fate has drawn Where human lives and destinies are lined, Each life there twists and turns and writhes To match the crooked pattern Fate designed. And as the patterns all are lived The unseen hand marks destiny For as all rivers flow to the sea Each life flows toward Eternity.

TEARS I waved farewell to my beloved And he waved back to me. I tried, how hard I tried to smile But through my tears I could not see. And then my love returned one day How glad can one heart be! I held him close within my arms But tears were blinding me. WAITING I am waiting and listening To hear your step upon the walk. I am waiting and listening To hear you speak, to hear you talk. I am waiting and listening And I shall till life is done And I hear a gentle whisper Saying softly, Come.

BURIAL AT SAN XAVIER (EMPTY HANDS) The soft sandaled tread of the old Padre fell On death-hushed silence like a funeral knell. The candle flames flickering, dancing like ghost Oer statue of Infant, on Saint and on Host; On angels bedecked in soft cloth, ancients old, And lace made by Nuns and on chalice of gold. Before the carved chancel, there on the dirt floor Was laid a crude box with the black shroud thrown oer To cover the poverty, all which remained Of a life weary mortal and all he had gained. There in the old mission with cross near his head He was equal of Chieftain, when Chieftain lies dead, With hands clenching nothing was he given birth, With hands clenching nothing he parted from earth; Those hands no more empty than hands of dead kings For death takes away nothing more than life brings.

JOYOUS FLIGHT The glint of wide-spread wings oer head, The throaty warblings from on high Mark well the passing of a bird Across the turquoise sky. Capture that sweet freedom And still that song in flight? Better take the sun from the day Or take the stars from the night. Still not that joyous singing To which his heart gives birth And which he shares with mortals. Poor wingless mortals bound to earth. Wish not to take him captive, Rejoice that he is free To wing his way in joyous flight And sing his song of ecstasy. GYPSY HEART Oh gypsy heart of mine, be still. Heed not that wild, sweet calling

Of Natures splendor on the hill And leaves so gently falling. Heed not birds call on frosty air, The crimsoned berrys shining, The purple sunsets on the peaks, For these, wild heart, cease pining.

Bid me not dance my wild free dance With tambourine a jingling, And swirling skirts, so full and wide My gypsy blood atingling.

Oh, gypsy heart, wild gypsy heart, What is the use of trying? The hills keep calling out to me, My soul seems to be dying. I cannot still that soft sweet voice That calls to me from yonder For I must live true to my blood And love and dance and wander.

TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN It was a long, long trail To the top of the hill, But how lovely all the way; The flowering of Spring, Sweet life just beginning And ripening fruit of the years, Brought forth by the sunshine and shadows The sunshine of laughter, the shadows of tears. Here on the top of the mountain, Viewing the valley below Frustrations are all forgotten, Memories glimmer and glow. Here on the top of the mountain My loved ones are close in my heart And how well do I know, of my life They were the loveliest part. MY PRAYER Oh, Master Power, of my small fate Guide well these hands for me,

That I may carve from stone of life Some beauty all may see. Let not the tools Thou gave to me Grow dull with blank disuse, Compelling me to meet each day With feeble, poor excuse. With strength endow this soul of mine, Compel me to carve deep And from this life bring beauty forth Which otherwise would sleep.

JUST FOR THE FEELING INSIDE OF ME I will do unto others As I wish them to do unto me. Perhaps I am grasping and greedy But gladly will I do it free From any thought of gain or merit But just for the feeling inside of me.

THE EMPTY GLASS A glass of rare champagne Could be the symbol of our lives; Its effervescence as the fullness of our youth, With eager hands we lift it to our lips And taste its richness, Feel the sparkle and the glow. And when at last the glass is drained, Intoxicated, thirsting still, Our lips cling to the crystal rim. And then as tho to squeeze another drop To quench our thirst for youth anew, We clutch the empty glass, Reluctant still to let it go. Then hopelessly the hand relaxes its hold, The glass lies shattered at our feet And neer again shall it be filled. LAUGHING EYES Across the lazy Rio Grande I saw two laughing eyes

And dancing feet and swaying grace; Love took me by surprise. I caught a slender hand in mine And brushed it with a kiss. My heart sang out. I never knew That love could be like this. I watched her for a moment long Then caught her close to me. Here sweetness there within my arms Was all I thought could be. I whispered then, I love you dear And what was my surprise! I found my answer, waiting In those laughing, Spanish eyes. WHY WORRY Little toddler holding to my hand Chattering like a magpie With words I could not understand. Woo-woo, I learned at last, meant ribbon.

Umpeta, of all things she said aslant, Was a word that meant her favorite Her old stuffed elephant. Salliedown I did not fathom Until my darling little clown Dropped down on her hands and knees And laughed, See? I salliedown. Everything she tried to say Seemed to come out wrong But that did not bother her, She said it loud and strong. THANKFULNESS For all the good things which I share I thank my God each hour. For dewy gems that shine at dawn And nestle near the heart of every flower. I love the sound of waterfalls, The lilting songs of birds in joyous flight And Winters ermine robes on lofty pines And moon and stars of velvet night.

I thank Him for the towering peaks, The canyons deep where wild things wander free, The loves serene from those I love Which they have given me. I love this life although I know For every joy there is a tear, But for them all I thank my God And feel His presence ever near. FROM MY HEART I would pray, dear God, as the Indians pray, Not for myself but for others. Seeking no favor for my own But for my tribe, for my brothers. Asking to hear and to understand Your voice in the winds, in the gales, Giving full thanks for the harvest of the fields And for the wild things of wilderness trails. Let me pray to Thee, God, as the Indians pray Not with voice but with whispering heart,

Seeing Thy handwork and feeling Thee near, Not far away, not a heaven apart. Let me pray as the Indians pray Not with my lips, but my heart. CORONADOS CHILDREN Crude stone walls enclose this acre, Rust locked hinges seal the gate, Sunken graves are marked by crosses Where these dead lie still and wait. Here lie Coronados Children Who left loves in quest of gold, Lured from homes to dobe wastelands By the stories wanderers told.

Here they found the gold of sunlight Found the turquoise of the sky, These they saw not, seeking earth gold In this land where they must die. Here lie Padres bones and vestments, Crucifix in clutching hands;

Troubled hearts no longer troubled By the ways of these strange lands. Here lie Indian youths and maidens Who trod paths their fathers trod; Fearing white men, they were Christians But their God to them was God.

Sacred acre closed in silence, Place where pain and trouble cease, God here breathes a benediction That their souls shall rest in peace. DISPROVED LEGEND Oh, Phoenix bird, arise, arise Or can you not repeat the act Which legend tells of you? But try. Oh, try to spread your wings and soar Above this ash of once a burning love. Oh, Phoenix bird, but try! You stir not. Is there then no hope Of pinions spread again in heaven-borne

Flight? No song from out your heart To mark the ending of a night? The legend then is false And never true could be For proof would be if I Could feel the stirring of your wings Within the heart of me. AUTUMN GOLD Summer days are past; October days have come. The world is lighted bright with golden fires From stubbled fields where harvests grew To lofty aspens quivering spires. The mountain slopes are shimmering With scrub oaks golden tint And snowy peaks, like frozen flames Reflect the sunlights golden glint. October days are golden days When God bids Nature rest For she has given of herself And fed the world from her breast.

And now, as with a Midas touch, Gold glitters thru the air And life suspends mid splendor bright For Autumn gold is everywhere. INDIAN PUEBLO Ancient dwelling of the Redman, Pyramiding skyward, golden tiers, Mellowed by the sun and starlight, Standing thru uncounted years. Dobe taken from the hillside Forming shelter for each clan To enclose the pains and gladness And all emotions known to man. Here the gurgled sighs of dying And newborn infants cries, And tears and laughter mingle; As in ancient times, they still arise. Here are held the aged traditions Used and cherished as of old

Long before the whiteman conquered With his cross and quest for gold. Those whose fathers builded Still dwell within your golden heart. Unseen barriers have held them World within a world apart. MOUNT OF THE HOLY CROSS Thy summit reaching for the stars Bathed pure in silvery mountain mist Lifts high a cross oer mans dark world Defying doubt of atheist. A rosary, like emeralds Adorns your lower pine-clad slope Rewarding thee for wearing high The emblem of eternal hope. The Great Creators hand has carved Thy towering granite slope with might And filled the place where He carved With snow of gleaming white. Perhaps an eagle soaring near

Did see Him at His holy task, But mortal man would never dare Such favor of the Maker ask, But bow his head in wonderment And breathe an awed and fervent prayer For worthiness to look upon The snow-white cross which He placed there. FULFILLMENT Though I no more the sun should see Or roses blooming by the way I shall have had enough of life For I have had today.

If myriad stars should cease to shine Or silver moons to give their light, My love, my life would be complete For I have had tonight. GAIN OR LOSE Of the blessings God gave to others He gave to me the same.

If I neglect, or fail to use them Mine alone is the blame. SUNSET With beauty gleaned throughout the day And flushed with shining, golden light, The radiant sun sinks into rest And yields her scepter to the night. While quivering pines on ridges high Against the sky are filigree And color fades from out the West The day joins with Eternity. Soon night in sable garments wrapped Treads softly oer the shadowed earth, And dreams of morrows new bright day In darkened hours are given birth. A PLEDGE Life a dream? Oh, let that not be true For then if I should wake I might not be with you.

Ill love you through all life and death, The fleeting days of life are few, And when they close me in the tomb My soul will come to you. GYPSY TRAILS My gypsy heart is crying And calling you to me As Spring lights every hillside And life is full and free, To climb the heights through stardust, Through winding woodland vales To where our hearts shall lead us Along sweet gypsy trails. SPIRIT OF THE NIGHT Night falls gently, quietly Over old adobe walls; Stars swing low beneath the sky, From nearby hills a night bird calls. Breezes whisper in the willows And wake each sleeping bird

To listen to the chanting That ages past have heard Voiced from long ago into this day, And the long tomorrows coming Will hear them in the ancient way. Spirits of the long dead Redmen Make nightly visits to their clans, Leaving ghostly footprints in their coming On the wind blown sands. Ancient customs never changing, Dance and legends still the same, Bind the past close to the present In this land of sunset flame. JOURNEYS END When I come to my journeys end, No sweeter gift could death bestow Than that I lie beneath the pines Where wild things wander, come and go. Where fields of flowers dance in the sun

And birds sing joyously, And night, like velvet wraps the world In silence and tranquility. Where winter winds shall later bring My shroud of glistening snow And sounding in the branches there A heavenly oratorio. WAKE ME NOT Eternal God, if God there be, Bid me not live eternally, Commit my soul to wakeless sleep Lest when I wake I wake and weep; Oh let there be but dreamless sleep For when I dream, I dream and weep. NEW DAY Birds cease their dreamy twitter, Sky and stars turn pale before The coming light spent is the night, The dark is lighted. A flame like blazing Molten gold bursts suddenly across the sky.

Great, glorious, awesome comes the sun Beyond all words to say, This is The dawning of another day. DRIFTING Like a winter blast, like a cold hand Gripping, tearing at my heart Comes, now and then, the realization That forever were apart. No more the feel of your dear presence Or security there by your side, No more the quiet understanding These things are gone, all gone Alone, I am drifting with the tide. TOMB OF MEMORIES Cloaked in the tatters of ruthless years The old house stands abandoned to the elements. Vengeful time with clawing hand of sun and storm Destroyed, and still destroys, till naught of loveliness Remains. No humans walk across the creaking floor,

Or break the silence of the lonely rooms. The emptiness is crowded with the lives its known Like perfume lingering oer a rose. The restless winds which wander thru the corridors Resound the laughter and the joys of youth, The startled wail of newborn life, The long drawn sigh which broke the bond And freed a soul to journey to the Great Beyond. This was a place of fulfilled dreams and sweet content But with the passing of long years So passed the ones who built and loved it so, Leaving it to mourn their parting all alone. The tall rooms sigh with every passing breeze, The great house cries with every passing gale. The empty windows stare like sightless eyes Searching from this tomb of memories For those long lost yesterdays. IT IS SAID It is said Laugh and the world will laugh with you.

How easily is that proven true; Just laugh and laugh and really mean it And the world will join in with you. And it is said When you weep that you weep alone. Nothing could be more untrue For when sorrows and troubles confront you Neighbors and friends take your hand And help in leading you through. LIFE IS A TRADER Life is a trader, this I know Of all the things I have learned, She never lets you have a thing Until it is fully earned; A Shylock asking pound for pound Without a Portias plea, I know, for when at last she gave me truth She took my youth from me.

JUST WAVE ADIEU Dear, it is hard to let you go With just a mere adieu. I long to hold you in my arms And know the feel of you; To feel your heart beat close to mine, Your breath upon my cheek, To see the love within your eyes And hear it when you speak. But if I should once hold you close This much I fully know, I could not find it in my heart To ever let you go. So say farewell and wave adieu And blow a kiss to me That I may cherish in my heart And keep in memory. TRIBUTE OF LOVE Like robins by an empty nest Were sitting here alone.

We are not sad, we laugh and talk Of all the happy times weve known; The stockings and the Christmas trees, The dolls, the drums, the laughter gay. The years have softly rolled like tides And taken all these things away But memory holds them close and dear And will till life shall fade. We thank you for the joys you gave, The happiness youve made. No matter where your lives shall lead, To distant lands or near As long as you are happy there Well be happy here. ALL FREE Living has so much to give And all is ours to share Just for the taking without a price. The treasures are everywhere;

The wonder of rain and clouds overhead, Star-reaching peaks a-glitter with snow, Sunsets of gold and sunrise of red, The light of day and dark of night, Stars sparkling brightly on blue velvet sky With millions and millions all scattered about Paling a bit as the moon passes by. There is perfume of grass and of flowers, Wild things, from eagles, to panther, to dove. But best of all these precious things Is someone to really love. WINTER ASPEN Swift gales sweep from the mountain tops And winds swirl up from the plains below To spring-fed dells of canyons deep Where white-trunked aspens bend and blow. Each leaf lifts up its shining face As green is changed to shimmering gold. Then soon they dance away with courting winds And leave the trees with hearts turned cold.

Soon with the weight of winters snow The barren branches bow and bend And for a season let life go. Most, when snow burdens are released Slip quietly back to stately forms And lift their arms in life anew, Forgetful of the winter storms. Others bow in memory Of burdens which they lately bore. Heeding not the call of Spring And fail to rise and live once more. THESE ARE MINE I love this, my land, The hills, the plains, the sea, And yet, above it all, I love The freedom it has given me. WHAT THEN? When the curtain goes down At the end of act three of

The play on the stage of life The question arises What next is to be.

Will the stage remain dark, Will the curtain not rise?

Surely three acts are not all the play The story is still incomplete. The grand finale is still to come. We wait and with every heartbeat The question arises What next is to be. LOVE GROWS BRIGHTER or LOVE CAN DIE Love grows brighter The more it is used But it can die slowly From hurt or abuse. Just so long can it suffer With wounds deep inside,

Patiently, secretly hurting Concealing with pride Lest others should know. Eventually comes the one hurt too many And love lies dead Freed from subversive tyranny. MY GARDEN He who walks in my garden at dawning, When grasses are dewy and wet, May behold the choice handwork of God In such beauty he neer can forget; All the wonders of petals unfolding, To hummingbirds paused in their flight As bright dancing beams of the sunrise Awaken each bud from the night. It is here in my garden at dawning One sees mysteries no man can explain, And yet with each golden dawned morning They happen again and again.

I KNOW You ask me if I think there is a God. I do not think, I know. Have I not seen a tiny seed Fall to the ground and grow With stem and leaf and flower? Have I not seen the great sun rise And arc my world then disappear, And nights with stars hung far in space? These things Ive seen from year to year. Without a God to guide its flight How could a hummingbird spread tiny wings And find its way oer land and sea And for a time remain, then come Homing once again to me? Can man make a petal of a rose Or thrust one blade of grass Through earths hard crust Or check the oceans mighty force Along a sandy shore?

I cannot doubt; believe I must. You ask me if I think there is a God I do not think, I know. PUPPY LOVE Say heart, behave -- dont act that way Its hard enough to wait Without you pounding till it hurts Because we heard the gate And heavy footsteps drawing near. O, hark, I hear his voice! Thats the sweetest sound of all It makes us both rejoice. We wouldnt trade him, would we, heart, For games or juicy bone? No wonder you are pounding so, Were glad that he is home. LIGHT THE WAY As I walk along the shaded path of life If I can, with but a smile,

Light a smouldering spark of hope In some poor heart; If with some word of kindness Help someone to bear his cross And if my laughter can be joined With other laughter rising high To join with songs of birds, When I have reached the sunset of lifes trail, Full well I then shall feel I have not lived in vain. I WANT TO LIVE I want to see another Spring With purple lilacs bending low, With stately tulips growing tall And bending when soft breezes blow. I want to live and see once more Another rose burst into bloom And apple blossoms, pink as dawn; Oh, Life, you must not leave too soon. I want to live a little while

It need not be so very long; I want to see another Spring And hear again the finches song. Dear God, if I may have my wish I will not ask for one day more, Not even sight of painted hills Of Autumn days which I adore. WHEN MAN CAN When man can hold one leaf upon the bough When once it starts to fall, Or make a tiny humming bird, Or hush the night birds call; When he can hold a mighty wind in check Or still the smallest breeze; When he can stay the tides onrush Or tint the sky cerise; When he can force the great red sun to rise Or flowers to break the sod, Tis then, and only then that I might say

Perhaps there is no God. TOUCH OF A HAND Let me hold the hand of a friend Whose heart is honest and true And I will feel a giants strength To fight my battle through. But empty words From the lips, not the heart Are words merely spoken Leaving me cold and weak and alone With the hurt of my sorrow unbroken. Let me hold the hand of a friend Whose friendship and love I have known Then I can go on and fight to the end Though I fight my battle alone. GODS PROMISE Tho the world be lashed by tempest And the surging billows roar, God gave His promise to the world That floods should come no more.

And painted is that promise At the end of rainy hours, In the colors that He gathered From the trees, the grass, the flowers, Let us prove that we are worthy Of the pledge against the sky, Knowing He will keep us And our souls will never die. Let us serve Him and our brothers And this nation rich and free With fidelity unfaltering Which He gave to you and me. His hand rests, oh so gently On all things He has made, And the bright hues of the rainbow Say we should not be afraid. THE LITTLE ROADS by Frank McDonough, Jr. Where do the little side roads lead That we pass on our journeys afar?

What secrets lie at the end of those trails Which are guided by some hidden star?

This shady one enters a cypress swamp And hanging moss hides it from view, But it winds and wanders to a clearing home Where the love light burns steady and true.

The sunny one wanders through graying sage Over limitless plains and hills Into distant yonders to valleys green Where peace dwells and turmoil stills.

The trail which leads up a mountain gulch And climbs to the end of the stream, Comes to a rotted windlass and shaft, The end of some wanderers dream.

At last one comes which is the one I take Into the canyon with spruce and pine, Around a curving hill to a garden green

And this one I know is mine. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND by Frank McDonough, Jr. I love the gently rippling stream That flows between the soft and rolling hills And to its destiny of nurtured fields Its part in Natures scheme fulfills. Until one day the clouds descend And pour their wrath upon the peaceful land, In devastation and destruction bound, Tis this I do not understand.

I love the peace of rolling waves As out to sea the blue fades into mist, The white foamed breakers come ashore And meet the sands to keep their tryst. And then the peace is broken by the storm, The angry waves destroy the beauty of the strand And spread an ugly litter over all; And this I do not understand.

I love awakening beauty of the Spring, The greening things and spreading warmth each hour, The gentle swaying of the spruce and pines And dead things coming into flower. And then one day when life should be a-bloom The deep snows come and biting winds command Return of Winters ice and chills, Destruction which I do not understand. FOREVER by Frank McDonough, Jr. Not even death can take you from me. Love has blended your soul into mine. Though my heart should beat no more, dear, It would sing and live again in thine. Through life and through all time, dear, Our two souls shall be as one. We can no more be parted Than the daylight from the rising sun.