My Childhood Doll

My childhood doll was everything to me.
I was two; you were a present from an old man I call Pop.
He held you out at arm’s length.
I wasn’t sure about you at first but eventually I warmed up to you.
Your plaid under-clothes flared out at the edges like a flower in bloom.
And your hair was like the sun itself.
Your little button nose was like a fruit bud in spring,
And still is but with a smudge of dirt.
I took you everywhere like you were my handbag.
Into the sandpit I took you,
The fine grains of sand lodged under your fingernails.
I needed you because you were my protective blanket.
Your once golden hair now matted and tangled,
No hope of brushing it.
Your little finger tips
Grasping your paint-chipped bottle for all eternity.
And now you sit at the top of my wardrobe
A memory of happiness replaced.