My tortoise

I miss the grain of clay under my hands.
It made me feel relaxed, to tell you the truth.
I used to go over it with my fingers,
Its leathery texture, so cold and smooth.

It all started with a thick block of clay,
a creative and intelligent mind as well,
My tortoise was going to be the best,
it was going to have a patterned shell.

I made my object with patience and care.
It was time to open the oven door.
I knew it would come to life in the fire,
and emerge even stronger than before.