Bounding down to Bungalows,
Leaping up the lane,
Pete-the-milk and his lusty lads
Were 'on the round' again.

Windows rattled by clothes props
Woken out of bed
Mugs of tea and toast in the van
"Three pints there" he said.

"Number four wants some more"
"Six eggs for number ten"
"Shut the gate at number eight"
"The dog'll be out again."

In deepest snow, up Sandy Lane
The milk would still get through
Along the Wern, at Christmas time,
Fresh cream and Whisky too!!

Goodwill to men, and milk for all
Hardwork in early morn
But will the milkman still be there
Beyond millennium's dawn?

(Kath Williams)