The Winner Takes It All Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The stepmother's heart was cold as stone,
To the World's End Well, she sent her own.
'Fill this sieve, and don't come back, '
A cruel command, a wicked track.

The well was deep, the task absurd,
A girl's despair, a silent word.
A little toad, with eyes so bright,
Offered help in the fading light.

'I'll fill the sieve, ' the toad did croak,
'If you promise to do what I evoke.
Just one night, that is my plea,
Then you'll be free, eternally.'

She promised quick, with tear-filled eyes,
And watched the toad, beneath the skies,
He filled the sieve, with magic art,
A heavy weight upon her heart.

She ran back home, her duty done,
But dread filled her, beneath the sun.
The toad arrived, as shadows grew,
Demanding now, what he was due.

Reluctantly, with trembling hand,
She faced the toad, upon the land.
A shining axe, she raised it high,
And with a chop, she let it fly.

No gentle kiss, but sudden steel,
A handsome prince began to reel.
The enchantment broke, the spell undone,
The deed was finished, the girl had won.

What happened then, no tale can tell,
But in the darkness, down in the well,
The frog did grin, from ear to ear,
His deepest wish, fulfilled and clear.