Modern Poetry in April 1 Early Morning in April
On the morning of April, the sky is blue.
It's blue, blue and a little transparent.
Clouds wander in the air, dreaming and drifting away.
Looking forward to the wind blowing from the gap outside Shan Ye, embrace it.
In the early morning of April, there is no sunshine.
Flowers shy smile, stretch soft waist, charming and moving.
Wait for dew to fall from the sky and kiss them sweetly.
This moment is beautiful and sacred.
In the early morning of April, it seems a little fascinating.
The girl leaned against the windowsill and combed her long hair carefully.
Sweet smile, slightly overflowing from the wind.
The smell of missing pervades the surrounding air.
Filar silk soft, mixed feelings. ...
Honey, tell me.
What could be better than this April morning?
Some miss, some miss, silently. ...
April 2nd Modern Poetry in the World
Waiting for a year of lovesickness
Endure the dormant lonely hope
Finally met when you didn't expect it.
The flowers in the yard bid farewell to the dream of spring.
I woke up and left it on the branch.
Green fruit
Thick green leaves mask April's shyness.
The flute of the wind is low and soothing.
A light dance turns a cavity of anxiety into catkins.
Green ink dripped on the branches of willow trees.
A boat rocking on the clear waves
The fence of the mountain wants to keep the footsteps of April.
A spring water, ups and downs.
The most important thing is that time cannot stay.
Swallowed by the sunset in the endless vastness
Look at white clouds and pale dogs through small windows.
Eyes measure the clear blue sky.
Close at hand or out of reach.
It depends on your idea.
Get up and look out.
There are hardworking folks on the boundless land.
With a lifetime of experience
Flip through a book.
Ruthless hand on the title page.
Draw a green mark.
Taste the rain, snow, wind and frost in the book
Bitterness and harvest
April day on earth.
A chapter opened by years
There are beautiful poems.
A Touching Story
Sweat irrigation is still promising.
April. Modern Poetry 3 April Dream
April, close to poetry.
Flowers bloom and fall, and I try to get close.
There are many thorns. Must be exiled, in a lonely manner
Hire an old horse full of words and hunch his back to watch last night's drunkenness.
With the scorching sun of thought, know the way by memory.
If there is water and swamp,
I just need to open my mind toolbox and let my sleeping eyes
Guide and walk alone with the sonorous voice of the Bible.
Dreams are not wings, but persistence.
Until the head is swollen and the eyelids are swollen again.
Although the wind is still a little cold, it depends on water.
I stopped at your door and approached you.
Far and near. That's the distance that my dust can't reach.
Modern Poetry in April Sang Ai in April
Walking in the clouds
Kiss the budding branches.
Yesterday's dream
Show a longing for spring
Clouds and smoke are gentle.
Rolling in the canyon.
Today's wheat seedlings
Take a winter break.
Clouds and clouds are helpless
Drag a few expectations
Wet thoughts
Dispel the haze nightmare
Cloud helplessness
You can't hide the sunshine.
A dry mood
Peach and plum new poems
Clouds and smoke without shadows
Can't stop lark tactfully.
Field scenery
Draw a picture of spring.
April Modern Poetry May Missing April
In April, warblers fly and dance with butterflies.
This is a blooming season.
Those flowers that come as promised.
It's the beauty of this season.
The days are still fresh in my mind.
It's just that there are more traces of vicissitudes.
It's just that in those mundane trifles
You're long gone.
A person, wandering in the spring breeze.
I know, I can't help myself.
A letter about disappearance
This is written enthusiastically by the spring breeze.
First time in Jiangnan
It's already colorful
How I want to let go of all the shackles.
Holding a long pole, looking for you in the apricot blossom rain.
In the already mottled time
Some troubles always have nowhere to put.
I really want to write a poem for you in the sun.
But I always put pen to paper affectionately, and there is nowhere to put pen to paper.
Modern poetry disappeared on April 6 and disappeared in April.
Whose memory did the past hurt?
This season is the flowering period you promised.
How much affection did that peach tree write?
In the cycle of the four seasons, it has been lonely like rain.
Stick a feeling in your heart.
Is it possible to stop being sad?
Gently brush away the dust in the past.
Have you learned to be strong since then?
Short time
This is a journey of clouds and water.
There are always some experiences that are dark wounds.
There are always some feelings that have nowhere to hide.
I really want to be with the moonlight.
Hide the truth of life
Leaving only those warmth
Let the heart stop hesitating after thousands of turns.
If all the beauty in the world
Never stay too long for anyone.
How can I borrow the hand of time?
Don't take your meeting with me to heart
Maybe, I just
Passing a flower in your life.
Zhan Yan smiles at you. You don't have to be a landscape.
I just want to leave a wisp of fragrance to moisten all your fleeting time.
The rain in early April was really heavy.
In Wanjian Qi Fei
The crowded and noisy people in the street disappeared in an instant.
It rained really hard in early April.
The street lamp is shaking.
The tree lowered its head again and again.
In the roaring rain all over the sky
A building towering like a giant
Is to bear the burden of humiliation.
The pounding of storm and rain column
Scratch, scratch
Hillside and eaves
Thousands of waterfalls fly down in an instant.
Scratch, scratch
An unbridled and surging torrent.
At lightning speed.
On the roads, streets and alleys of the city
Invasion one by one, scouring one by one.
Scratch, scratch
Dull eyes
Looking at the horizon in the torrential rain.
My hometown, it's raining now.
The dirt road where I went to school as a child.
I'm afraid it's full of puddles.
Will the wrinkled old house leak rain?
Tomb-Sweeping Day planted the seedlings just a few days ago.
Will it be flooded by rain?
A new earth on the graves of grandmother and mother.
Will it be washed away by the rain?
The pouring rain in front of my eyes.
The vicissitudes of the years after turning around
Let the heart be thousands of miles away.
Vague began to become complicated.
In the faint eyes
That slowly aging cheek.
Chunchunsui Li Yue
The elegance of quietly burning out
Everything is a muddy heart.
Filled with countless puddles
Let the surging blood flow.
Missing alluvial sediments.
Buried in bitterness, my heart is full of worries.
Swallowed words, flashing tears
Tired waist, frosty hair
Long gone with the wind
Engraved in the vicissitudes of life
Never a little weathered.
Mom! You have been away from us for thirteen years.
Mom! How eager the child is.
I can still grab your skirt.
How eager children are not to grow up.
Sad memories, a glass of water.
In the process of hunting, we constantly found that
In the pursuit, we are constantly left behind.
It was supposed to be the annual rings of children and grandchildren around their knees.
We are far apart.
Youth falls in the fleeting time
Can only make sad and unforgettable parting graffiti.
The world of mortals and misty rain, the years of gathering and scattering
How can I melt this tangled and frozen heart?
Fine nib
Can no longer bear the weight of missing.
Zigzag ink
No more praying for wind and rain
It will be a gorgeous rosy clouds all over the sky.
It rained really hard in early April.
It soaked my mind.
Pour out my worries.
The dancing rain curtain is the sad tears of the wanderer.
A swift flood
And it will also wash away the persistent bank lady completely.
A lonely and sad heart
So naked in the rainstorm.
It rained really hard in early April.
Heart, still drifting.
People are far apart.