It's where your heart is and where your hearth is.

Forever I stretch, some would say I carry a fishy stench. A salty taste and an experience so sweet; dance with the sun and cool off from the heat.

I float on water, long and slim, In Venice I’m a classic trim. A person rows me with a pole. What am I?

From the Czech Republic, my origins are west, though Prague is the capital known best. A country long forgotten, not tied to Parisian artists of notoriety, for they refused to comply with the rest.

I rest where rivers end their run, yet I do not race beneath the sun. Too wide for pond, too calm for sea, and land surrounds the whole of me.