Milk Delivery ephemera poetry
In the morning light, a milk bottle stands,
A relic of bygone days, in my trembling hands.
Embossed with nostalgia, a link to the past,
From the dairy farm, where memories last.
As a little girl, I'd wait with glee,
For the sound of the milkman, with bottles three.
Clad in white, with a smile so kind,
Bringing fresh milk, a treasure to find.
The clink of glass, the cool touch of the jar,
Filled with creamy goodness, from cows afar.
A cap of foil, a symbol of care,
Delivered with love, from the dairy farm fair.
Each morning ritual, a simple delight,
The taste of fresh milk, a pure delight.
In that old bottle, a story untold,
Of days gone by, of memories bold.
Now the milkman is gone, the farm a memory,
Yet in that bottle, lives a legacy.
Of childhood moments, of innocence so sweet,
In the simple act of milk delivery, a connection complete.
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