Beneath the cobalt sky, where legends are spun,
Island life unfolds, as traced by the sun.
Amidst the palms, a verdant ballet,
A choreography of chores, in the island's sway.
Fishing boats gently bob, tales in their wake,
Nets entangled with the morning's ocean handshake.
Fishermen, weathered, their hands tell the story,
In salt-stained shirts, a testament to the island's glory.
Coconut vendors...
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