Wordle 172, memories of paradise

Flamboyant trees blaze down the central avenue
past the Clock Tower and the Man Unchained
to the last point of Revolution 5^th June
and the tuna packing station.

We could never tire of the bliss
of reliable sunshine
the sound of surf on coral reef
undersea fantasia
nor lose appetite for life in paradise
despite the irritation
of disclosure of the latest idiocy
of jumbled politics.

Anse Baleine, where we lived and worked for two unforgettable years,
in Seychelles