East meets West

In a land on the Pacific rim
lived a femme with a future too grim,
there was just not a butch
of the old school, not futch,
to respond to her beckoning whim.

Seeking not more than a lark,
to extinguish a flare-up, a spark,
o'er the net shye sent out,
while expressing great doubt,
an energy wave clean and stark.

A faraway boi heard hyr call
and shye felt a new change, at first small,
shye felt happy and free
'twas enough just to be,
and shye thought that they would have a ball.

In the exiled heart of our myss
grew such pain at the lack of the kyss
of the butch hyr heart knew,
shot the arrow so true,
that it seared the still air with a hiss.

The aim, it was deadly, on cue,
and it arced through the air as it flew,
white-hot to its mark
penetrating the dark
toward the femme, who just hadn't a clue

A nut can grow into a tree
if not stunted by harm or debris,
to great heights it may soar
survive drought, cold, and more
while no future does itself forsee.

Thus mused our maid, hyr heart sore
for the cockswain shye wanted the more,
their tree putting on growth
unbeknownst to them both,
for each other they did both adore.

At last shye and hye met alone
and their lives, they took on a new tone,
for they felt they had found
a new love so profound,
that they entered into a new zone.

And there they remain to this day
where with one and another they play,
their hearts are filled up
like a brimming full cup,
and their lives they are happily gay.

---Traditional