On the day of the Wearin” O’ the Green, a wee poem (about a subject I love) sent in by Bobby-Digital.  Thanks, Bobby-D!

I’ve tasted hock and claret too, Madeira and Moselle,
But not one of those boshy wines, reveal this languid swell;
Of all complaints from A to Z, the fact is very clear,
There’s no disease but what’s been cured by glorious bitter beer.

Enjoy the day, but watch out for snakes and green beer!

Hoppy endings,