Alivings – XLIX

Many a day did my milkman
    At dawn fill in his maid:
'Again a damp sill.' My man didn't grasp
    That nightly crying spark'd his plight.

I think his maid and him lacking this insight,
    Was a bit awkward, - still in which way this girl
Practically didn't catch anything,
    That was in fact a hard pill.