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STATUETTE, by                    
First Line: The statuette stands in the window
Last Line: With warmer lips than glass.


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.





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