Saturday, December 24, 2016

a mainers christmas

twas the night before christmas, and all through downeast,
not a lobstah was stirring, all boiled for the feast;
the wool socks were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that l. l. bean gift cards soon would be there;

mainers were nestled at the snug and not their beds,
while visions of whoppie pies danced in their heads;
and mamma in her bean boots, and i in my flannel,
were drinking pints at the bar, watching the sports channel.

when outside door, i heard spreading sand,
and checked my phone for the parking ban.
cars were all covered by the new-fallen snow,
making it easy to spot the ones to needing to tow.
when, what to my frozen eyes should appear,
but a delivery truck and eight kegs of beer,

a grizzled old driver, only 'bout four feet high,
i knew in a moment it was the craft beer guy.
quicker than the patriots, the barrels they came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

"now, ALE! now, PALE! now, PILSNER and PORTER!
to the top of the draft, from the windows to the walls!
now drink away! drink away! drank away all!"

he was dressed like a brewer, from his hat to his socks,
and his clothes, how they smelled of barley and hops;
a bundle of growlers he had in the back,
along with hard to find beers and holiday six -packs.

the lagers -- how they twinkled!  the porters so merry!
the lambics tasted like roses, just a hint of cherry!
all the bottles were wrapped with a bright pretty bow,
and the froth from the head was as white as the snow;

there was a pipe in his mouth, he started to toke,
taking advantage of maine's latest vote;
he had a broad little face with an extra long beard,
combined with a trucker hat, his face disappeared.

of course he was chubby, on account of the carbs,
and nights spent at rosie's and ruski's and other maine bars;
a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
made me love this wicked good giver of liquid bread;

he spoke not a word, but went straight to his tasks,
he checked all the lines; and connected the casks,
then giving a chuckle with a hint of a snort,
he walked outta the bar and into old port;

he sprang to his truck, and gave the ladies a nod,
and away he drove like a shoal full of cod.
but I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight,

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