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
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