My Eyes Are Fixed Only Upon The Dealer

I've made comments.
And sometimes read more,
Of your work.
I may or may not give what I read a rate.
I appreciate the giving done.
Because I know what that takes.

But to suggest that I must read,
Your submissions with a rating I don't feel.
Doesn't do the craft any justice at all.
Going through the motions,
To appeal an ego seeking to be massaged.
With a zap to zing a zest,
That produces an invitation to squeal with zeal.
Ugh!
I never was one to seek that kind of praise.
Since my connection began with pure love.
You know?
I'm one of those who do it for the art types!

I've made comments.
And sometimes read more,
Of your work.
I may or may not give what I read a rate.
I appreciate the giving done.
Because I know what that takes.

But I'm not going to foresake what I do for you.
Nothing like that appears in the deck of cards...
God has dealt to me.
And until I leave...
My eyes are fixed only upon The Dealer.
That's it!
This is His game.
Not mine.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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