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The Favor I Most Curry
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By Quentin Clingerman
Other Poems by Quentin Clingerman


Through life's sometimes short, sometimes long years
Through play, fun, work, study; joy and sometimes tears
Perhaps the most paradoxical time of all
The holiday which in my mind seemed at times very tall
At others seemed so very, very small

Anticipation marked the weeks before this most mercurial of holidays
Excitement reigned in many a of my younger days
Though we seldom had much to look forward too
The expectations did still in our hearts ensue
We were usually pleasantly surprised and pleased
As our pent up emotions were joyously released

Yet, as the years passed by, Christmas became something of a chore
Certain aspects distinctly and oppressively a bore
A cynicism crept in
The holiday took on an onerous spin

Difficult it often was, though a smile was there for children and friend
I was really rather glad when it came to an end
This was to celebrate the birth of Christ our Savior
But it had lost for me its Christian flavor

Had become a holiday to endure
Only for others happiness to ensure

There has come a change so subtle,
While not childlike, it is gentle
Christmas is a time for sweet reflection
Giving and loving and sharing by selection

Childhood anticipation has gone with yesteryear
In its place a quiet expectation coming so clear
Enjoying all the celebration
Yet in it all a more profound meditation

With all the sounds and sometimes Christmas fury
Silent night, holy night the favor I most curry


The Favor I Most Curry (c) 2001 Quentin Clingerman


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Submitted: Wednesday, December 12, 2001

Last Updated: Wednesday, December 12, 2001

About the Poet
I am a retired educator. Now 85 years of age. I live in Maryland. I am the father of three ladies and thirteen grandchildren. Four grandchildren now married. I have two great grandsons, Koi Jon and Quinn Manu and a great granddaughter,Sephira Jade. Poems are an expression of how I think and feel. Variety in either case! I am the founder of WordChimes.com WC originated in February, 2000.


Other Poems by Quentin Clingerman


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