She came with heavy and comfortable steps.
Full of Shan Ye.
Flowers and plants are lush and dense.
Pale blue autumn clouds
everywhere
My dream trip
Put on your dream clothes
indefinitely prolong
The treetops are full of fruits.
There is melancholy in silence.
The ups and downs of the past are doomed.
Give them the glory of today.
What is lost is always the most real.
The wind doesn't know how to penetrate sadness.
Stride the strings in my heart
Who will sing with it?
Fruit with a heavy heart
Who accompanied her through the ups and downs?
Look up at the treetops.
She has been in the lush.
Autumn is a season full of worries.
A rush of autumn wind
Take away a short story.
Urge people to come.
Fruit harvest
Instantaneous defoliation
Go west and east.
A bumper harvest of yellow rice fields is in sight.
Forever endless wind
Echo in silent meditation
echo
I can't stop Qiu Ge's modern poetry.
Strong winds swept across the fields.
Many bright colors.
Over the hillside
Transfer to the back and shade.
Marigold swallows the vow of peach blossom.
Throw the ellipsis into the sky.
In the invisible distance
Who can catch the eyes of spring?
The sun crosses the sky.
The shadow cast on the paper
crack
The reader picked up the spilled notes.
Start a new stove for poetry
Farmers pick up scattered seeds.
It's like holding a dream in a previous life.
Soon. After the first frost.
Heavy snow is about to bury this ancient castle.
The train passes by my hometown.
When the train rumbled by.
I took the brush and put the spring back.
Suitable for petals.
As if they had never withered.
When strangers are homesick, they don't say it hurts.
He said the train. The wind blew between the teeth.
Many people have never seen a train in their lives.
I wonder how the train sighs.
The tide swept away the wind and moon.
My folks have grassroots qualities.
Take root.
Love and hate are lifelong.
The wind speed caused by the train cannot affect them.
At the moment, they are standing with their heads held high, and the sun is just above their heads.
I can't imagine having a strange face.
Fall in love with your own injuries through thousands of miles of air.
Qiu Ge's Modern Poetry 3 September Autumn
In the sky
sweet fragrance diffusing all around
That's the smell of all cooked food.
Sutian
One by one.
Cluster of clusters
collide
illusion
I like Tang poetry and Song poetry.
Sentence by sentence
One song after another
Lily granules
It seems to be graceful and restrained.
The running water gurgles.
Who is fiddling with the strings?
Songtao bursts
Birds turn to insects.
The mountains echoed.
I wonder who wrote this symphony.
Qiu Ge flies in September.
Woye-
Smart thing
Is the best listener.
The interpretation of "Drunken Beauty" is also at this time.
Chrysanthemums bloom in September.
Red, yellow, white, purple, ink, green and orange. ......
colorful
That's a gentleman's gesture
That's the rhythm of autumn
Endure watching the flowers retire.
Then wait for Qiu Ju to go on stage alone.
Chrysanthemums are everywhere.
you are
The painter's unique love
The poet's love clock
This season is in full bloom
Deep in my heart—
Be touched
There are endless memories.
Flowers, stubbornly open.
Don't expect to go home.
Just wait for the wind and frost to come.
The best-
Hermit's demeanor
Maple leaves are red in September.
A ball, a ball.
This is the rhythm of life.
The soul of autumn
This is experience.
The hardships of spring
Friedrich Hirth postgraduate entrance examination
The final accumulation of blood and sweat
Rice ripens in September.
There are fattening frogs in the water
heavy
Curved ear of rice
Nodding frequently with the breeze
It seems to tell people-
Be grateful
Scarecrow is-
Puppet king kong
Scared away the greedy wild birds
In the bright sunshine in September
The herringbone formation swept across the sky.
Migratory birds living in the north are preparing to return to the south.
Naughty squirrels also jump around.
Be in a hurry to hide something
On the lake—
Fish is fat and delicious.
The boat is in a hurry.
People come and go in the fields.
hustle and bustle
Golden autumn is writing.
The last theme—
busy
The harvest of autumn is exactly
Winter series
Woye reveled in-
In the song of autumn