
Twas the Night Before Stout Month. . . .
A STOUT MONTH 2023 POEM: Twas the night before Stout Month, when all through the pubs Not a pale malt was boiling, not even the trubs; The tap slats were hung by the art boards with care, In hopes that stout beer drinkers soon would be there; The brewers were nestled all snug in their…
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