We wander where the ale runs deep,
Through clattering pans and laughter sweeps.
With quill in hand and froth in glass,
We capture moments that swiftly pass.

Not just to rate, but to retell,
The secret songs that pubs compel.
From cobbled streets to taverns bright,
We seek the soul of every night.

Food, drink, and vibe—we weigh with cheer,
But always with rhyme, and always with beer.
For in each pub, a story awaits,
And we, the poets, guard its gates.