Read Poems by Betty Bateson

Betty Bateson Avatar Betty Bateson - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail Go to Poets Blog Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below are poems written by poet Betty Bateson. Click the Next or Previous links below the poem to navigate between poems. Remember, Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth. Thank you.

List of ALL Betty Bateson poems

Best Betty Bateson Poems

+ Follow Poet
NextLast

Remember Me

Remember me, the cool glass milk bottle. I used to sit on your front porch early in the morning.  You could hear me arriving before the sun was up. I am a Bateson Model Dairy milk bottle, beautifully made of thick clear glass. A lot of milk bottles have been replaced with plastic but I am an expensive looking quality original.  I am one of the most popular milk bottles in the area. 
I came from a small processing dairy in Wingham, Ontario where the Bateson family owned and operated their business for many, many years.  Working seven days a week during the very early hours bottling milk delivered from local farmers producing hundreds of bottles for their loyal customers.
Remember the wonderful clinking sound of the milk bottles arriving? Leaving out the empties represents many people’s first concept of recycling. I can remember that relatively traumatic moment when I was replaced with the carton.  There was just something really wrong about pouring milk out of a carton because it didn’t have that refreshing coolness of a glass bottle.  A cold bottle of milk has a certain integrity to it and the glass retains that.  What a shame.
	The milkman would deliver me to the door and collect the empties which held a few coins or milk tickets to pay for the fresh bottle of milk.  Many conversations occurred on the stoop of each home as the family pet circled for a sniff.  My travels around town went from the horse drawn milk wagon to a square van. Sometimes when the van stopped the old dog, Dina would wake up to chase a cat up a tree. 
	Over the years my shape has changed and my new caps gave me some upbeat fashion.  But the quality of my contents stayed true.  Sadly, if you show a child a glass milk bottle today he won’t know what it is. I come in many shapes and sizes, the quart, the pint, the half pint, the creamer and many more. The name printed on my side changed little over the years to keep the nostalgia of the small time dairy business.  
 	Now I am considered an antique waiting on dusty shelves in antique shops for a new home.  When you see me you may be thrilled to find a bit of history to place on the mantle of your home. You might recall childhood memories of the comforting sound of the milk man arriving at the door with fresh milk so very early in the morning.


Copyright © Betty Bateson | Year Posted 2017

NextLast

Post Comments

Please Login to post a comment

 
  1. Date: 2/9/2017 11:09:00 AM

    Aaaaah! So beautifully nostalgic taking us on a lovely trip down Memory Lane! Love the flow and imagery! Excellent piece from your magical pen, Betty! A-7! Best regards. Pandita

Back