Tick, tick, is what awakens people who are falling asleep. It turns out that the rain is calling for its arrival, whether it is waving the floating amorous feelings.
The rain fell slowly, as if spinning with time, also like a long journey, on the way, brought joy. Rain, rain, quietly away, and quietly ushered in, why so many people hate your arrival, everyone thinks you can't go out to play, although you are eager to help everyone, but your kindness is so insignificant, you for human, make your dignity destroyed by human beings, human murmuring, all blame you, despise you, humble you In people's hearts, there is always a blank memory. In fact, I like you very much, this drizzle,
The rain stopped, and his mood was normal. He always thought that the rain was a good thing. Because the rain liked this place, he came back. If he didn't like it, how could he want to come here? Goodbye, rain, we will meet again.
Rain, too fast, until you stop, I think so, a good floating Ling rain, thousands of reluctant, not dissolve my heart.
I believe that the next meeting is a perfect and wonderful ending. I would also like to believe you, because you add flavor to the world.
Six drizzle continuous, strong love 450 words, childhood, only a kind of trust in the mother; youth, the mother may only be a blind understanding; only when the sun of life towards noon, life has spring, also began to summer, the mother side has a deep understanding, deep love.
Looking back on the long past, I suddenly feel that mother's birth is a kind of time, from the green space to a forest, from the stream to the vast sea.
With the passage of time, we see a trace of tail lines have been quietly engraved in the corner of mother's eyes, a wisp of white hair has climbed up the temples of pro. In the face of the vicissitudes of life, it is difficult for us to distinguish whether it is years or our mother who has gone. What we want to leave behind is the unforgettable maternal love, or the little bit by bit, the story of flesh and blood.
We are growing up slowly. When we think that we should take responsibility on our shoulders, when we seem to be able to look back on our lives, we suddenly find that our white haired mother is still looking at us from behind with a kind of eyes full of no pity, infinite connection and infinite concern. In the mother's eyes, we are always the childish children nestling in her arms. No matter how far we wander, we never leave the mother's sight for a moment.
Without a mother, the world will lose a lot of warmth; without a mother, life will be dark. It is with a mother, when we are far away from the end of the world to walk alone in life, even if a thousand things are not satisfactory, even if the pain is unforgettable and sad, I will hold my head high in the face of hardships. Mother's eyes full of expectation and longing always flash in my mind and become the spiritual sustenance and the courage to struggle.
Mother is a kind of time. Every wisp of white hair and every wrinkle symbolizes the ruthlessness of time and records the vicissitudes of time. Finally, we grow up, mother is also old, but mother is still using her last flame, to us continuously transmit the power of life.
Mother is a kind of time, which is worth our tears and gratitude forever.
Six love in the spring drizzle 450 words slightly drizzle, washed away the winter cold white spirit; gentle breeze, blowing to the spring warm color butterfly. Several big trees in the campus have dyed their hair, which turns yellow in cold winter, into green and vigorous hair.
The students have been hiding at home for a whole cold winter. Now, according to the agreement with the students in spring, they will go outside the campus to welcome the arrival of the new semester. The students took off the thick clothes like zongzi in winter and put on the thin clothes of flowers in spring. The sound of reading in the classroom and the unique fragrance of spring from the flowers outside constitute a wonderful spring theme!
Spring wind, blowing in the body, like a thin and slippery silk scarf on the body, soft and elegant! Spring wind is different from the cold wind in winter, but it can give people a fresh feeling after bathing and riding on a silk wave peak; after sweating, the slight wind blows over your wet hair, giving people a gentle sense of comfort. The spring breeze comes at such a right time, so agreeable.
Spring rain, such as the root of the silver silk, to the dry heart of a winter brings infinite moisture. It's not like the heavy rain in summer, and it's not like all winter without water. At that time, the drizzle gave spring ploughing a needle of growth agent to all things. Especially in the mountain village, after a spring rain, the rain washes the mud, leaves, and the smell in the air, which is called fresh air, giving people a new feeling.
In the comfortable season of spring, the earth, which was covered by the yellow leaves, is now decorated with the color of spring, full of joy, vitality and vitality. The severe wind and rainless days in winter make the earth covered with dust, and the arrival of spring makes the earth change its face to show the creativity of this young girl, spring! Drizzle drizzle 250 words' good rain knows the season, when spring is happening. With wind the spring rain sneaks in night. Silently, it moistens everything. '
I watched the rain silently, while walking on the way home, I could not help reciting this article "spring night drizzle".
The distant rang of car bells, as soon as I turned around, the drops of water on the umbrella fell one after another, forming a curtain made of rain. At first glance, a boy was riding in the rain, holding the handlebar in one hand, covering his head in the other hand, and galloping all the way; there were several girls holding small umbrellas, talking and laughing together.
As I walked on, I saw a vegetable field.
The raindrops slide mischievously on the vegetable leaves. The leaves swing from left to right, as if dancing. From such a distance, I can hear the rustle of rain. The water on each dish reflects the blue sky and glitters.
The snails curled up on the leaves have long been hidden in the 'small room', and the birds that had been flying around have long been lost.
It's a pity that such a drizzle is floating in the air. It's a pity that the beautiful scenery can't last forever. Just like the clouds that have not yet fallen, we have to rush out of the clouds one day and come to the society and the complicated world. April drizzle, embroidered eyebrow curved 2000 words, March rain delicate, always rare. April, after the Qingming Festival, the day gradually warm, more rain, but most of the same kind of Misty drizzle, like ox hair, delicate, ethereal, really, is a kind of artistic conception of the United States.
I always want to turn off all the lights and light one or two candles on a rainy night. The window is open. There is a slight wind wrapped in some fallen catkins, blowing in and falling on the hair. The candle light is also slightly trembling, flickering, so hazy. Sitting in front of the window listening to the rain, the rain is as fine as an embroidered needle, which is woven on the windowsill Some of them will fall on a few cases, and rice paper will be moistened and dyed, and flowers of plain color will come out. Even candlelight will be covered with rain flowers, and some of them will be moist. In fact, the rain is silent, the sound of rain is open in the heart. Moisten the eyes of the heart, wet the dream beside the pillow, moisten each vein of the atrium.
Thinking of such a rainy night, 'the sky street drizzle as crisp', the heart is soft and soft, soft some shallow pain.
In the spring of the north, the wind is inevitable, with slight cold and dust. The air is dry and turbid. Even the sky is polluted and the color is no longer blue. So I look forward to the rain.
It's really raining, it's really that drizzle! The rain should be after midnight, because I went to sleep near midnight. I also looked at the sky before going to bed. It was cloudy, without stars and moon, and the air was humid. I wonder if it will be a rain tomorrow? Wake up in the morning, found some dark indoor, in the moment of opening the curtain, know that the rain has been under for a long time. Some potholes in the street are covered with rain, and the road is also bright, like a bright bag falling from the sky. The road is packed into it without any gap, which makes the walking vehicles become cautious. The building that has been washed by the wiper is like a garment that hasn't been washed for a long time. After being washed by the rain, it shows its original appearance. It is brand-new and feels that the whole city is fresh.
Just dress up and get ready to take a shower like this. If you don't bathe in it, you will feel that it is a kind of disappointment and a kind of disappointment to the heart. When I was about to go out, I heard my husband yell and bring an umbrella! I just had a helpless smile, because he didn't understand me.
Walking in the alley, rain, good soft, good soft, also floating. Like rain, not rain, like fog, not fog, entangled. I like this kind of rain very much. I don't need to ask why. Maybe it's just because it's April rain, maybe it's because of her misty dream like smoke, or her story of some dampness and sadness behind her. Maybe it's nothing, just for a little purity! A little bit of sadness.
In the past, there were some misty hazy lanes, but the air was absolutely fresh, without dust, and the moist hazy was wrapped with bright clarity. Some passers-by hurried past me with umbrellas. They went to work or to school. Only painted with light green willow, like me naked in the drizzle, washed by the rain, the Yellow willow crown more and more bright and bright. I gently shake the willow stem, the soft willow will gently sway up, there are a string of raindrops falling on the face, cool and warm, very comfortable. All of a sudden, I thought of Wang Wei's farewell to Yuan er's envoy to Anxi. The guest house was green and willows were new, and the rain in Weicheng was light and dusty. In the classic sentence, I think about the situation of the poet folding a willow to give to his old friend, and he really wants to give a willow to a friend. Just do not know who to give, a bitter smile, it is self mockery of their own amorous it, there is suddenly a wisp of clear sorrow from the mood
When I think of this poem, I can't help but look around. Isn't there really a pretty flower girl holding a small flower basket with a few apricot flowers stained with rain and dew twisting her tiny steps, and a pair of shy eyebrows bending into the moon in the drizzle, selling flowers? I couldn't help laughing, for my own imagination.
In front of us is not a flower girl, but an old couple. It should be an old couple. In the continuous rain, they support each other. They hold an umbrella in two hands, a big hand and a small hand. The same old man can see the muscles and bones protruding under the fold, which is the reason why they used their strength. I was immediately moved by the two hands holding the umbrella. The wind and rain are like life. They support each other and grow old together in the old years. In the vicissitudes of life, they take on the responsibility together, regardless of each other, and have become a whole. Perhaps they have no romantic life, perhaps they have never said a word: I love you, but can you say that they are not love? Can you say they don't know love?
On the street, there are few pedestrians and there is no past