A Perfect Symbiosis


I remember as a wee lad

going out to the front gate

to fetch our delivered milk.


Bottles those days. Their tops

of gold tinfoil had protruding

Braille writing; the date perhaps.


‘Pasteurised’ was embellished

on the glass over Springmount

Dairies, a local bottling company.


It was pints back then and

under the lid for about two

Inches was a layer of the

richest, purest, Irish cream.


One needed to be up before

the hens or risk your bottles

being breached.


Crows beaks were of identical

length to the depth of the cream.


It surely was, a perfect symbiosis.


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