In a haze of smoke where the lovebirds play,
Two stoners met on a fateful night,
Shared giggles and snacks, nothing felt wrong,
With a bong as their bridge, a connection so bright,
"Pass the ganja!" she grinned, sparking delight,
In a mystical dance of green, they’d sway.
He raised the bowl, took a hit to the sky,
She marveled at puffs, a cloud like a swan,
In the air, a romance that felt like a song,
With laughter and sparks, they shared their way high,
With every exhale, oh, love would not die,
"Cough, if you’re smitten!" she said all along.
Her eyes were like stars, his heart in a twirl,
"Is it the weed or your smile that’s so bright?"
The ashtray filled up with their fragile dreams,
Every puff woven, a tapestry, a whirl,
While munchies called out, "Let’s savor this girl!"
In their cosmic clouds, they found pure delight.
Yet one fateful night, the bowl ran so dry,
He pondered his options, a crisis of love,
His heart raced like youth, but the pantry was bare,
He asked with a gasp, “Would you share a rye?”
“Rye whiskey?” she smirked, “You know it’s a lie,”
And burst into giggles all filled up above.
Oh, the love that they sparked as they fought through the munch,
A joint venture, indeed, in the midst of a snack,
With a pizza to share, and a bottle of soda,
“In this whirlwind of bliss, I’d never dare lunch!”
"But babe, let’s be real," she chimed with a punch,
“Stoned love’s quite sweet, but the fridge, it’s a hack!”
Yet seasons would change, as they rolled through the years,
With bongs on the shelf, now a vase full of charms,
Love grew like the grass in their once smoky lair.
So here stands their tale, through laughter and cheers,
Two lovers united, igniting their fears,
For in every puff shared, there’s something that warms.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
