This Christmas poem is a nod to the fine folks living in CO and WA!
'Twas the night of Friday
and all through the town
no cops were stirring
no narcs were around
The joints were all rolled
and put into stacks
in hopes that soon we'd be
stoned to the max
We drank 7 and 7s
and smoked Panama Red
with the smoke from incense
encircling our heads
When then at the door
we heard a loud knock
and everyone said
"oh shi$! it's the cops!"
We went to the door
to see who was there
and opened the door
(which gave us a scare)
When what to our red, glassy
eyes should appear
but 10 pounds of Hawaiian
and 6 kegs of beer!
The man standing next to it
was wearing a smile
so we invited him in
to party awhile
He spoke not a word
just sat there and rolled
he filled up his glass
and lit up a bowl
He left rather quickly
and instead of goodbye
we heard "marijuana to all,
and to all a good high!!!"