McWilliams writes first poem due to missing his beagles, fox hounds

Local poet Willis McWilliams wrote his first poem almost 60 years ago. It didn’t get published for 40 more years.

McWilliams was born in Dark Corner and grew up in Kingston, Okla. in the late thirties and forties. He went to Kingston High School. Throughout his life, he moved around to various parts of Oklahoma, Texas and Arkansas before he ended up back in Kingston in 1975 with his wife, Mary Loyce McWilliams. They have been together for 56 years.

Willis’s first poem was published in Small Pack Option in 2000. Before his poem in the article, he writes, “This is a poem I wrote 40 years ago while in Boot Camp at Ft. Leonard Wood, Mo. I missed my beagles and fox hounds. So, the only thing I could do was to write about them, which I did.”

McWilliams wished to, “dedicate this to every beagler who has known the thrill of being involved in such a hunt as the one I relate.”

Later in life, the Kingston poet worked at a cable company before becoming an electrician. He helped out with the Kingston High School football team, which McWilliams’ wife and son, Mary Loyce and Jerreck McWilliams, say brought him in lose contact with Glen Pool.

Willis McWilliams spent his free time taking his dogs to field trials and writing for multiple magazines, mostly based on his love of hunting, the outdoors and beagles. Him and his family self-published a book in 2011 called “Dark Corner, U.S.A: A Collection of Articles by Willis Moody McWilliams.” The book was printed at a local church and binded by the family.

Now, McWilliams lives in Family Care Center of Kingston, a nursing home. Five years ago, he had a stroke which rendered it difficult for him to continue writing poetry.

The first and last stanzas from his first and favorite poem, ‘Fox Hunting Society’, are printed below.

I’ll try to relate a night at our hunting grounds, When two of the hunters cast their hounds. Time wouldn’t permit, neither would space, To tell of all that happened, in this fox chase.

The hounds had worked hard all through the night, For the front position, there had been quiet a fight. Which was out front most really couldn’t be said, For at one time or another, each one had led.

They deserved their feed and a good days rest, For all had run hard and given their absolute best. The sun slowly rose to the notes of a hunter’s horn. The hounds were returning, ears bleeding and torn.

Though tired and worn they seemed very contented For this was a sport that mere man hadn’t invented. Hounds and fox, both created by The Lord Almighty, More reason to be proud of our Fox Hunting Society.