I liked the suess one so I tried this time to emulate Poe
Upon the shore, the sand felt cold as ice,
A pre-dawn chill that would not suffice,
Beneath his feet, once calloused and rough,
Now smooth and sensitive, as if in rebuff.
How would he explain, once back at the base,
His strange transformation, an unprecedented case?
He walked on, the sun just starting to rise,
As salty sea air blew past him, causing gooseflesh to arise.
His hairless skin, exposed to the winds of the morn,
Sent shivers down his legs, so soft and round, so forlorn,
His bare arms, so willowy and thin,
Trembled in the breeze, as if they'd never been.
In his hands, he held a pair of high heels,
Though walking in them would be a test of his skills,
And in the other, the tattered remains of a navy shirt,
The only remnants of his former self, now in dirt.
His hair, once short and unkempt,
Now long and silky, in the breeze, it leapt,
Tickling the top of his ample bosom,
As his nipples hardened, a feeling so awesome.
He touched his hair, feeling the quiver beneath,
And the soft adipose tissue, so round and so sheathed,
As his feminine face, with dark eyes and supple lips,
Now stared out, exposed to the wind, and its whips.
His story, he must make it right,
For he had sneaked off, against orders, in the night,
And gotten drunk, handsy with the local women,
Only to wake up like this, in such a feminine emblem.
He recalled the lights, the chanting, and the ouzo,
And prayed to the gods, that it was all just a ruse-o,
For he didn't know if he'd change back, or if he'd be left behind,
But he had to try, to get his story straight, in hopes he'd not be maligned.
The ship, he saw it on the dock ahead,
And he quickened his pace, his heart full of dread,
For he had to make it, he had to get back,
And hope that his story, would not fall through the cracks