coconut vendor

Beneath the cobalt heavens, myths unfurl,
An island's tale told, in the sun's warm swirl.
Amidst the palms, a verdant ballet,
A choreography of tasks, in the island's sway.

Fishing boats gently sway, tales left in their wake,
Nets entwined with the morning's ocean handshake.
Fishermen, weathered, their hands tell the story,
In salt-streaked shirts, a tribute to the island's glory.

Coconut vendors wield machetes with pride,
Husks cast away, secrets within reside.
Sweat beads on brows under the tropical sun,
As islanders toil, a day just begun.

Children laugh, chasing the tide's warm embrace,
Building dreams in the sand, a joyous race.
Their laughter, a melody with seagull cries,
As the day unfolds 'neath endless skies.

In the market square, colors burst and bloom,
Fruits and spices scent the island's room.
Vendors banter, a lively exchange,
Commerce dancing in the island's range.

As dusk descends, shadows hug the land,
Twilight whispers with a soft command.
Stars emerge, a cosmic display,
Over the island, where dreams hold sway.