The (Powdered) Milky Way

An ode to our last 750-gram powdered milk, taken from our treasured weekly Buy-Up Sheet.

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The full cream milk I get today,

and in my cell it has to stay.

Of fault, not mine, I cannot get

to fridge afar, not now, not yet.

I have a drink, of fresh to taste

of fault, not mine, it goes to waste.

A day without brings me to thirst,

I think of powder, or not the worst.

To have of this, could be the choice,

upon the buy-up, to have the voice.

Oh, let at Woodford, bring it back,

The milk of powder, in the sack!