A poem by: Ben Dunk. March 3rd. 1978.
My Welsh Grandma is ninety two
And looks much better than any of you
I put this down to an active life
Growing pot plants and avoiding strife
The calm she’s found is in smokes and chews
And hoarding cash sales in tea-tins and shoes
Her diet doesn’t vary in any way
She enjoys a bowl of hash every day
Unselfishly giving Grandpa delight
She insists on a Bhang every night
She’s as strong as an ox and cuts her own grass
And neighbours love to watch her speed pass
So, when you feel in need of a pick me up
I’m sure my Grandma will fix you up.