In moving slow he has no Peer,
You ask him something in his Ear,
He thinks about it for a Year;
And, then, before he says a Word
There, upside down (unlike a Bird),
He will assume that you have Heard
A most Ex-as-per-at-ing Lug.
But should you call his manner Smug,
He’ll sigh and give his Branch a Hug;
Then off again to sleep he goes,
Still swaying gently by his Toes,
And you just know he knows, he knows.
A poem by Theodore Roethke
Height - 473mm (18.6”)
Width - 325mm (12.8”)
Deoth - 187mm (7.4”)