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.