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.