I lost a good ale while walking around the house the other day. I’m not yet desperate enough to suck spilled beer out of the carpet, so I’ve chosen to memorialize that lost soul in poem form.

I think that I shall never hear
a song sad as a wasted beer.

A beer whose frothy contents spilled
and left my cravings yet unfulfilled.

A beer I longed for all the day.
to wash my pointless cares away.

A beer that filled my glass with flair
but tumbled as I missed a stair.

Upon the floor its suds have lain
and cause me to cry out in pain.

Sobriety, us boozers fear
is best tamed with an ice cold beer.

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Appearance: Striking. Crystal clear golderrod mirred only by the incessant tiny bubbles that move with passion. A thick creamy head that sticks to your upper lip in a way that you only see in the movies. The head sticks hard to the sides of the glass, not lacing so much as slowly oozing down and covering everything. This is a marvel

Smell: Big hops; like walking through a meadow after a soft rain, the sun beaming down on your face as it slowly bakes the grass and fills the air with scents of a perfect Spring day. Like getting flowers when it’s not even a special occasion.

Taste: Oddly tame, I expected to be stabbed in the back of the throat with hops and bitterness. Medium-bodied and incredibly drinkable.

A nice bit of citrus cuts through everything and keeps you refreshed and wanting more. It finishes mush sweeter than I’d expect for this kind of beer. Mango or something tropical. It totally caught me off guard. For the most part it tastes like it smells with is damn near perfect.

Overall: Buy, buy, buy, buy, buy, buy, buy! This was a revelation. It was something that has stuck with me since I actually tasted the beer three weeks ago. That I’m not drinking it now is slightly depressing. 95/100.

Up Next: It really doesn’t matter right now. Probably an IPA.