Modern Poetry: Campus Spring 1 Campus Spring
The wind blows
Those pruned osmanthus trees have sprouted new buds.
A group of naughty children
Habitually beat the table tennis table with chopsticks.
Like a sweet pipa played by an adult.
An old grandmother who sends her grandchildren to school.
I seem to have dressed up at home.
They leaned on crutches against the school gate that had been tanned by the morning sun.
The warmer you are, the warmer your heart will be.
Occasionally, they will look up at the flying national flag with muddy eyes.
A female teacher wearing a purple scarf or a red scarf
Smile with the blooming buds of winter jasmine.
They don't care about the sparrows chirping overhead.
I just want to talk with my hair and the warm morning breeze.
Sisters' faces are filled with intoxicating smiles for a long time.
Some male teachers
It's too late to shave off the beard under the face and cheeks.
Such as Li Kui jy, Zhang Fei and Tengger singer singers.
Playing basketball with children on the court.
Their laughter shocked Dongxiang and gathered into a stirring Haruka.
I stared at the mountains not far away.
Want to know whether the scenery of Chongyang Pavilion is still the same?
Going back to Miaojiang, the old willow is still swaying?
I miss the years when I used to wear a red scarf. Is it water under the bridge?
At this time, the bell for class rings with the loud morning bell.
Modern poetry: campus. Spring 2 Spring Campus
Abandoned the silver dress and plain chest wrap that didn't belong to me,
Now that I am,
More energetic.
Persistence in beauty,
Finally, I rediscovered my pursuit of the meaning of life.
There are red flowers and green trees telling:
Hongse flowers
Although I will refuse again soon,
Although I am afraid of the darkness and loneliness at night.
But I will still live bravely,
Seeing the persistence of wind and rain,
Ignore the impatient child gently ask:
"When will you wither,
Bear fruit? "
Because of death, for me,
It was a mistake,
No matter how weak I am when the wind blows,
I also want to give silently,
My light and heat.
When I got my life back,
I promised spring,
Let my life,
Walking is radiant.
greenhouse
At this moment,
I didn't choose to be silent,
In the romantic season,
There is a wind blowing,
The sound of rustling is like a song.
My new life,
Once in the poet's heart, the poet's courtyard,
The green sky is like a splash.
There are stars shining in the campus at night.
My endless branches and buds,
I once said confidently: "
The tranquility of the night,
It has been broken by my louder and louder voice. "
One legend is that ...
In the spring of campus, Shu Hua once let go of his throat to tell.
Modern Poetry: Spring on campus, Spring in March.
Many, many years later.
Suddenly there will be a deep nostalgia.
In this spring campus.
Water lilies, cherries, wisteria and camphor trees
Hidden in the familiar winding path.
If at this time, meet like yesterday.
Can you learn anything from the familiar figure?
I found one clear smile after another.
Glittering tears in that smile
This is our deepest regards to spring.
The long runway connects history and the future.
No matter how far the distance is, it is also in our exciting youth.
Carve the growth track and stand at this new starting point again.
Do you feel the surging blood in your heart?
This passion is still the flame of hope.
If the time is not old, we still want to walk into the classroom.
Listen carefully to the teacher's rambling words.
When the spring breeze pushes open the window of the classroom again.
There are green trees and red flowers outside the window and on the blackboard
Lines of words exude the fragrance of wisdom.
The classroom is closely connected with the classroom.
Transactive memory in youth and spring.
We used to be close to you.
Laughter rushed from the corridor to the sky.
And walking on campus, once again appreciate each other.
No matter how far ahead.
No matter how bitter, sweet and sour the future is.
Looking back, the campus in spring will always reappear.
Write down your dream and fill it with thousands of words of graduation.
Teachers, classmates, and the fragrance and attachment of this garden.