Emotional: Productive Passion

Frustration bubbled forth,
Like broth,
From an overheated stew pot:
Too much to do!
Too much to do!

And the final ingredient in this recipe for wrath?
Tripping over
The overlong legs
Of the track pants I had put on!

Furiously, off I tore them,
Then rapidly turning the offenders inside out,
Grabbed a wooden ruler
And folded up the material on the right leg,

Measured off two inches of cuff
And seized my pin jar,
Screwing off the gold metal lid
And vigorously stabbing the cloth;

On to needle and black thread,
Stitched with determined speed,
Racing against he clock,
As cooking and work also on the docket;

In record time
I completed the job,
Without a single expletive
Or irritated growl,

Pouring all the energy I possessed
Into the necessary task,
I worked so fast
I had no opportunity to fume,

No irate smoke filled the room,
And soon,
The chore was done
And my comfort restored.