Before My Very Eyes

As I age before my very eyes
I find myself superfluous and blue.
And with this notice, I hereby apprise
you: do not worry, as I am in queue.

Not silence, but restraint is my “new” aim.
It may not look so different to some
who see the surface and inside the same.
They wonder where this bother cometh from.

But words do not come from no place at all,
though outwardly they seem such little things.
To casual observer –  even banal,
or possibly – of cabbages and kings.

From that deep place this eidolon keeps on;
laughs and cries and listens as a sage,
re-reading of the Snark, or Kubla Khan,
and all the things that now become my age.

©p.johnson Sept.2015