Ever-after wishing
for magical

transformations, and
one to follow

closely by the book,
she rolls up lace sleeves,

plunging icy hands
down into pond's brown

murk, with a talent
for fetching out.

Finger-wrapped, fearing
pursed leather lips,

her slime-green captive
gives its squirmy croak:

"What would a frog
want to do with you?"