Transgender Love

I regrettably buried the little thing
in a plot not of my first selection,
because my tyrant husband fool that he is
did not approve of where I had originally planned to plant us.

Thus, love at first sight agonized indescribably,
bumped, bruised and battered by careless mowers.
Deprived of lighting and proper care from foster mother,
it pained me to see how she suffered.

Three winters pass, the jerk gives in
to re inter the shriveled tree. Says he;
"If it doesn't die by summer, we'll not apply to it the final solution."
Why oh why, am i so pussy to defend what is mine to cherish?

I plant Precious where she and I had always talked,
in full daylight on the front lawn
where birds can whistle at her.
Within the hour she outgrows me by a head.
I am impressed. She tints of blue,
as blue as blue as any Colorado Spruce could get.

I look her up, I look her down,
her well set trunk, her hanging boughs.
With princess arms my hair she coyly touches
and whispers in that accent, unmistakably coniferous,:
"Were you a male, I'd look to impale you.
You'd be my prince in satin shorts,
in chain mail and shiny armor."

Without a thought, I respond;
"I am, I am, don't let that stop us.
Have you not guessed?
I am your trans gender lover!"