My Ceramic Sheep

A sandy coloured ceramic sheep
Cotton covers its pump body
As big as a tennis ball
As soft as a cloud
Sitting on my bookshelf
Its chubby feet stand
In my bear-bank plug
Tastes disgusting like plaster
Smells like dust in the attic that hasn’t been touched for years
Understanding like my mother
Funny like my father
Crafty like my sister
And shy and timid like my best friend
It has changed since I first touched it
Bought in a market in Italy
It reminds me of my preschool carers
I would cry uncontrollably if I lost it
Its paint’s peeling, fur falling and covered in bite marks
I will hand it to my children and hope that they will do the same
My ceramic sheep