Frogged

a sonnet by Dan Standing

My clothes swallow up my receding form,
Webbing spreads between each shrinking finger.
The cavernous fabric folds down, still warm,
Blonde strands vanish; none up or down linger.

Milky skin dampens, gains deep shades of green,
Breasts ebb away as my legs gain their mass.
Eyes ache and shift; the witch now better seen,
I croak; only voice now thanks to my sass.

“As frog you will remain until one kiss,
From handsome man or curious maiden.
But to rut with new kin would be remiss,
Creature evermore if you’re egg laden.”

I settle into comfort of the murk.
Hmmm…a few handsome toads nearby do lurk…