I wonder if critics are sleeping-

Or resting fully awake?

Or alone in darkness peeping;

Searching for my mistake.

They left me Christmas morning;

Its over!  their time is gone.

Their comments keeps me yearning.

Perhaps, I wrote it wrong.

Do critics really love me?

I thought, I loved them true.

Am I being silly-

Now thinking as I do?

Why then-must I ponder-

To let critics steal my mind?

Good is the shouting thunder-

Some critics leave behind.

I envision my darling critics-

Staring at the Christmas tree,

And making several visits

To keep their eye on me.

But, this Christmas words are flowing.

And no critic shall I behold.

They knew; I went knowing.

But refused what I was told!