How very simple life would be
If only there were two of me,
A restless me to drift and roam
A quite me to stay at home
A searching one to find his fill
Of varied skies and newfound thrill
While sane and homely things are done
By the domestic other One.

And that is where the trouble lies
There is a Restless me that cries
For chancy risks and changing scene,
For Arctic blue and tropic green
For deserts with their mystic spell
For lusty fun and raising Hell

But shackled to that restless Me
My other self rebelliously
Resists the frantic urge to move.
It seeks the old familiar groove
With candlelight and well loved books
And treasured loot in dusty nooks.
With pottering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings.

And all the time the restless one
Insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide
No matter where …just for the ride
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.
One eye turns to the forward track
The other eye looks sadly back.
I am getting wall eyed from the strain,
It’s tough to have an Idle brain.

One says “Stay” and one says “Go”
And one says “Yes” and one says “No”
And one self wants a home and wife
And one self wants the drifter’s life.

Whatever..
it’s the restless fellow that always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins