December 2020
| BEER |
| The Poetry of Beer |
| Charles Duffy The Reason Why ------- The horse and mule live thirty years And never know of wine and beers. The goat and sheep at twenty die Without a taste of scotch or rye. The cow drinks water by the ton And at eighteen is mostly done. The dog at fifteen cashes in Without the aid of rum or gin. The modest, sober, bone-dry hen Lays eggs for noggs and dies at ten. But sinful, ginful, rum-soaked men Survive three-score years and ten. And some of us, though mighty few Stay pickled 'til we're ninety-two. -------------- |
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| Liam Flynn The Poet Well, you see, this beer, it is so very fine; I’m beginning to think I could speak in rhyme; I was so sad, but now I so shine; I’m beginning to think I could speak in rhyme. (based on "Wine" by Stan Dupp) ------------- |
| Brian Wynch Beer, Beer, Beer Long time ago, way back when all there was to drink was nothin but cups of tea. Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mops, and he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops. He must have been an admiral, a sultan or a king, and to his praises we shall always sing. Look what he has done for us he's filled us up with cheer! Lord bless Charlie Mops, the man who invented beer beer beer tiddly beer beer beer. |
| Edwin Abbott Beer For Breakfast ‘Who has not tasted of Hodgson’s pale beer With its flavour the finest that hops ever gave? It drives away sadness, it banishes fear, And imparts a glad feeling of joy to the grave. Oh! to drink it at morning, when just from our bed We rise unrefreshed, and to breakfast sit down, The froth-crested brimmer we raise to our head, And in swigging off Hodgson, our sorrows we drown. Or to drink it at tiffin, when thirsty and warm, We say to the khidmutgar*, “bring me some beer,” Soon, soon do we feel its most magical charm, And quickly the eatables all disappear. Or at ev’ning, when home from our ride we return, And jaded and weary we sit down to dine; We ask but for Hodgson, and willingly spurn The choicest the dearest the rarest of wine. Then hail to thee Hodgson! of Brewers the head, Thy loss we in India would sadly bewail; May you live long and happy, and when you are dead, 1 will think of you daily whilst drinking your ale. -------------- |
| Tom T. Hall Fill My Glass Give me champagne I won't complain. If that's the best you can do. But if you've got class Fill my glass With Oklahoma homebrew. ------------------ Dan Reed Limericks One day my mouth felt so dry And I thought I was about to die. Then I saw the word “Beer”, And one salty tear Of happiness escaped from my eye. ---------- It’s true what the say about ale, When it has grown quite stale. It smells like a skunk, But still gets you drunk; I guess that’s why this was on sale. -------------- What is to our hearts so dear? What makes the whole world cheer? What is it we praise In millions of ways — Could it be a thing other than Beer?! |
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