[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 dawn’s 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

O’er 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 o’er

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 o’er 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 Nature’s splendor on the hill

And leaves so gently falling.

Heed not bird’s call on frosty air,

The crimsoned berry’s 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 ne’er 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 Winter’s 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.

CORONADO’S 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 Coronado’s 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 oak’s golden tint

And snowy peaks, like frozen flames

Reflect the sunlight’s 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 o’er man’s 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 Creator’s 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 o’er 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.

I’ll 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.

JOURNEY’S END

When I come to my journey’s 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 we’re 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 it’s known

Like perfume lingering o’er 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 Portia’s 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

We’re sitting here alone.

We are not sad, we laugh and talk

Of all the happy times we’ve 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 you’ve made.

No matter where your lives shall lead,

To distant lands or near

As long as you are happy there

We’ll 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 winter’s 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 ne’er 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 I’ve seen from year to year.

Without a God to guide its flight

How could a hummingbird spread tiny wings

And find its way o’er 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 earth’s hard crust

Or check the ocean’s 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 -- don’t act that way

It’s 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!

That’s the sweetest sound of all

It makes us both rejoice.

We wouldn’t trade him, would we, heart,

For games or juicy bone?

No wonder you are pounding so,

We’re 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 life’s 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 finche’s song.

Dear God, if I may have my wish