The market stalls are filled with simple grace,
Where quiet patience defines her space.
In structured rows of plastic, clear and neat,
The harvest rests along the narrow street.
From sun-dried fruits to kernels rich and sweet,
A woven tapestry of things to eat.
She watches over every packaged prize,
With gentle kindness shining in her eyes.
A steady life within the busy trade,
Amidst the patterns that the seeds have made.
She waits to share the bounty of the land,
With humble grace and a welcoming hand.
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