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