but there was method (and a bit of madness) .
He’d dreamed up rules, of course,
’twas either right or left but never both
in unison or (think of it!) in competition.
His brain was sharp, inquisitive and quick,
an eager tongue in search of novel tastes,
thus it was clear they’d have to find a road
substantially less travelled, say a compromise
which, in the end, and subsequently, they did.
Two brothers, yet unlike in many ways,
bright children under God and of a common mother:
The Analyticus, known by his monocle, opposed
to Amadeus who would listen endlessly to Figaro.
A shy arrangement, it had served them rather well.
No yellow jealousy or envy plagued their heads
until the day they were confronted by a pet. A POODLE,
which led to chaos all at once for Analythicus
who could not find the proper link to please his mind.
And Amadeus nodded wisely only once.
And then began to doodle.