La Cinque Terre
Waves crash down each day by day
As fishing boats dare make their way
The village square, by dawn, now quiet
as endless waves, with rocks, play riot
Then hustle and bustle, taunting streets
With men and boys from fishing fleets
Children scamper, scurrying, scream
While women weighing fish they clean
When midday sun offers no retreat
And cobblestones lie hushed with heat
Siesta silence creeps into town
Except where waves come crashing down
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