The statuette stands in the window, Her hands upon her hips, A smile of subtle coldness Upon her crystal lips. A shapely little figure, Unhappy little jade, A tear beneath each eyelid In crystal ice is laid. I would not be a statue With breasts so high and round. Nor do I harbor envy; She cannot make a sound. Though lacking her perfection, I am a happy lass For I can say "I love you" With warmer lips than glass. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO-MORROW TO FRESH WOODS AND PASTURES NEW' by AMY LOWELL MANOKWARI, IRIAN JAYA; IN MEMORIAM, ALFRED RUSSEL WALLACE by KAREN SWENSON WINTER TREES by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE FIRST LESSON by EMILY DICKINSON ASSUNPINK AND PRINCETON [JANUARY 3, 1777] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH |