Two Sides of the Same Coin
Coffee in the morning, Oaky Ale in the evening.
Early winter’s morning; one eye open, senses getting charged with the crisp aroma of Bluefields brew.
Mug cupped in hand with Miles lending a hand, I ask myself; Who needs Bachus?
Early evening, long day, give me a Stout, Porter, or Ale. Dusk passes; pleasant garrulous banter. Silky foam channels down.
Ah! Morning once again…
Early winter’s morning; one eye open, senses getting charged with the crisp aroma of Bluefields brew.
Mug cupped in hand with Miles lending a hand, I ask myself; Who needs Bachus?
Early evening, long day, give me a Stout, Porter, or Ale. Dusk passes; pleasant garrulous banter. Silky foam channels down.
Ah! Morning once again…