Oh, the clock strikes four-twenty, a magical chime,
It’s time for our rituals, our high-flying mime.
With laughter and snacks, we gather in cheer,
As clouds of good vibes drift near and so near.
First, we gather our goodies, oh what a delight,
Potato chips crunching, our munchie-fueled light.
With cookies and brownies stacked high on a plate,
We host a fine banquet and call it our fate.
Next comes the circle, our sacred old rite,
We pass ‘round the herb, sharing stories of height.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I…”
Then the tales get wilder, and laughter turns prime!
Who knew that a puff could unlock such a door?
To adventures we’d never have thought to explore!
With each inhale, thoughts soar like birds in the sky,
"Wait, did I just see my face in that pie?"
The clock ticks along; the hour it races,
As giggles and joypaint the room with our graces.
With munchies consumed and our spirits on high,
We toast to the moment, and then watch the sky.
So here’s to the rituals, the highs and the lows,
To the laughter shared with each friend that one knows.
At four-twenty, we gather, it’s a true work of art,
In our stoney little world, where love fills the heart!
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
