Pressure Cooker

I see the angry steam
Rushing upward from your ladened lid,
Locked and latched to
Seal the savor
Of the flavor deep inside.
You can’t hide the wild
Intense desire to escape the fire
Burning hot below your feet,
A vile and Hellish brimstone street.
Pain must be your Musketeer
By your side to face the fearsome
Foe you seek to vanquish with the
Mighty slash of polished steel.
But your feet are melded to
A single surface as if magnets
Held you fast as others passed,
Demolishing your zest and zeal.
You can shed the pressure cooker,
Climb the ladder of desire.
Set your feet on kinder ground.
Set your sights forever higher.

Lulu Storefront: http://www.lulu.com/dsmartin
Amazon Author's Page: http://www.amazon.com/Dennis-S-Martin/e/B004SXY4LG/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1394055582&sr=1-2-ent