A mother's love is like water, and a father loves poetry and mountains.

Poetry 1: When I was a child, my father loved to sit on your shoulder. Your calloused hand stroked my childish head. A man with a rough head can be so gentle. Walking in the afternoon, you always hold my little hand tightly. My busy figure stays at my sideburns because of my naughty hair. Now that I have grown up, you are still sad. You can't stand mountains anymore, but you still don't want to be. My burden, father, please believe that I am an adult, father, please believe that I can bear this burden. Father, please relax. Now I can also hold up a blue sky. Poetry 2: Mother's love is different from her love for us. Our love is a stream. Motherly love is dew on the unstable grass in the sea. This is the light from the sun. The days in April are half brilliant and half brilliant. That's where the spring breeze passes. Our happiness is our mother. The smile on our faces is the deep sadness in our mother's eyes. We can go far and far, but we can never leave the square in our mother's heart. Poetry 3: Motherly love: I am your mother with black skin, my mother with white skin and my mother with yellow skin. My love is as black as charcoal, as white as snow and as yellow as mud. My love has no boundaries, no boundaries, and my love for you is a seed covered with snow. You are a tree that grows from the loess. You are the burning charcoal fire. This is life, you are strength, you hope you are my child, my child, you are my child. Poem 4: Holy maternal love, strange appearance, regardless of spring, summer, autumn and winter, lofty and great maternal love, infinite loyalty, whether you are peaceful or restless, whether you fail or succeed, maternal love is everywhere, it is she who accompanies you to experience life, and it is she who flies over the phoenix. Changhong, who is in heaven, does not understand maternal love, and you will lose the true meaning of life and forget maternal love. With our hands, we can touch bright colors, and with our love, we can measure the overall prosperity and care for our mother. It is also the sublimation and purification of you and me. Try to dry your tears for your mother and enjoy the magnificence! Poetry 5: A father loves a mother's love, like a mountain, a landscape that grows in your heart. No matter how you go, maternal love is a bay of water, which will always reflect your figure. No matter where you are, your parents will never laugh at your loneliness and depression, because your wound is also their pain. Parents will not be jealous of your success and success because your world is full of sunshine. They also have clear skies. Sitting on your shoulder, your calloused hand caressed my childish head, and a man with a rough head can be so gentle, tall and thin. Walking in the afternoon, you always hold my little hand tightly. My busy figure stays at my temples because of my naughty, and my white hair is bent by the hard work of the years. Now that I have grown up, you are still sad. You can't bear mountains anymore, but you still don't want to be my burden, father. Please believe me. I am an adult father, please believe that I can bear this burden. Father, please relax. Now I can also hold up a blue sky. Poetry 2: Mother loves us, but not the same as mother loves us. Our love is a stream, and mother's love is dew on the unstable grass in the sea, which is the light given by the sun. The days in April are half brilliant and half brilliant. That's where the spring breeze passes. Our happiness is the smile on our mother's face and our pain. It's the deep sadness in my mother's eyes. We can go far and far, but we can never get out of the square in mom's heart. Poetry 3: Motherly love: I am your mother with black skin, my mother with white skin and my mother with yellow skin. My love is as black as charcoal, as yellow as snow and as white as mud. My love has no boundaries, no boundaries, and my love for you is a seed covered with snow. You are a tree that grows from loess. You are a fire burning with coal. You are life, you are strength, you are hope. You are my child, my child, you are my child. Poetry 4: Holy maternal love, strange maternal love, regardless of spring, summer, autumn and winter maternal love, lofty and great maternal love, infinite loyalty, regardless of your peace and agitation, regardless of your failure and success, maternal love is everywhere. It is she who accompanies you to experience life, and it is she who flies over the phoenix. Changhong, who stands in the sky, does not understand maternal love, and you have lost the true meaning of life. A mother lives in poverty. First, people often say: a mother's love is like water, and a father loves a mountain. Mountain is the skin of water, and water is the blood of mountain. The mountains and rivers set each other off, the yin and yang are in harmony, the nature is beautiful, the heart is harmonious, the mountains and rivers are intertwined, and peace is achieved every year. Mountain is Children's Day, water is children's land, and there is a happy world between heaven and earth. The arrival of children is the cry of mountains and the call of water. Children bring a warm world to mountains and water. Mountains and water are also warm harbors for children. Children are the laughter of mountains, the flowers of water, wandering between mountains and rivers. Mountain is a child's mind, broad-minded, parents do not forget the road to struggle. Water is children's world, and the world is warm, so teachers should not forget to raise children. Second, a father loves mountains and a mother loves water. Sun-like persistence, moon-like clarity, each with its own language and way of love. Create a happiness for children and create a future. Father loves the sun as warm, and mother loves flowers as gentle. Silent language hides deep love, fragrant thinking hides selfless feelings. Warm as a breeze, light and winding like white clouds, come to the world and wipe away the stains on children. Slowly and gently, love your family, and children will feel the warmth of life. Third, a father loves mountains and a mother loves water. No mountain refuses to be green, and no river refuses to flow. Every grass and tree is the love of the mountain. Mountains are hard, rich and satisfied. It's comforting to watch flowers bloom and flowers fall and trees grow and warblers fly, even if it's hard. Every fish swimming in a mountain stream is the love and dependence between mountains and rivers. The water is busy, the water is very old, and I am afraid of suffering day and night when I am sick. Although it tastes bitter and sweet, the water is very happy and proud. Watching the fish swim around, even Cang Sang forgot. Fourth, a father loves mountains and a mother loves water. The mist thinly covers the starry sky, looking at the sleeping face of the child, and the stars gently hum the music of the cradle, patting the small quilt and fantasizing under the softness of the fog. Watching children's night in fog and starry sky, sighing slightly when listening to talking, how many worries, the heavy shackles of life on the way to work and crowded cars, more than three meals a day, sauce, vinegar, oil and salt? Fifth, a father loves mountains and a mother loves water. Father is always silent, and mother is always nagging; Silence is not necessarily unloving, nagging is not necessarily mean. I only wish my children a good life, a good growth and a good peace. Father has father's expression, and mother has mother's expression. Sometimes doting is the dizziness of love, and sometimes being strict is the wisdom of love. Children's understanding is the embodiment of parents' love, and children's contribution is the expectation of parents' love. They love their children with tender feelings like mountains and rivers, and hope that their children will love the world with tender feelings like mountains and rivers, so that their lives will be happy and there will be a better tomorrow.