Hoppy

I like a beer that’s hoppy, With a bitter, pungent bite. I never drink ‘til sloppy, So imbibing is all right. But when I have my nightly brew, I want it to assert; And every sip should help renew In manners quite overt. With hue of bronze and foamy head, When poured, it should invite. A lesser beer won’t do instead, Especially if “lite.” An I.P.A.* that’s filled with hops Is drink for which I yearn; So brewers, I will offer props And daily, I’ll return. *India Pale Ale