Where a river meets a bay,
a quaint sheltered village lay.
Ships of yore still ply the docks.
A tiny lighthouse warns of rocks.

Haunting sounds linger on the breeze.
Shanties of old still to please.
Times bygone we’ve all to explore.
The past opens today’s unknown door.

Nights brighter compared to the then.
Our days shorter way back when.
Yesterday’s preserve tomorrows map.
Horizons calm or a trap.

~*~
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