Modern poetry is free in form and rich in meaning. Image management is more important than rhetoric application, which completely breaks through the characteristics of ancient poetry, such as "gentle and sincere, mourning without complaining", and puts more emphasis on free and open, straightforward statement and communication between the sensible and the intangible. The following are the modern campus poems in spring that I helped you organize. Welcome to share them.
Spring
Spring is coming
The campus is bright and fresh
Peach flowers are in bloom
Apricot flowers are in bloom
Poplar trees are swaying with brand-new emerald screens
colorful butterflies are dancing
larks are singing
The campus is bathed in warm spring
. Frequency
girl's silk hair
laughter ringing the bell
delicate flowers and willows
taking pictures of graceful shadows
shyly caressing peach cheeks
hearts rippling
men are brave
full of energy
playing in the garden
going for an outing on the lawn < When the flowers bloom,
the dream is already a kiss and kiss
the campus in spring
studying and living in the campus
itself is a kind of happiness and beauty
the grass probe brings out the fragrance of the earth
the bauhinia covers the whole body with purples
the weeping willow branches sway in the spring dance
the magnolia gives off a faint fragrance
even if the flowers fall
. Some sadness
the fruits are left to grow happily
Even if the leaves are yellow
, we can only thank autumn
Autumn goes to winter to give birth to the next dream
Full of vigor and vitality
Reading aloud
Living with young children
Always full of spring breath
Beautiful and happy < Campus
The name of spring
How fresh and beautiful you are
You are charming and fragrant
I secretly burned you in my pure heart
How many days and nights
I kept showing it, like crazy
The environment is like a cangue, locking the track of life
Years are like a rock. Spring goes and summer goes
The past is like a dream.
Only your name
swims quietly in my clear autumn heart
the spring campus
the morning sun at eight or nine o'clock,
through the Woods of the campus,
put gold clothes on the buds!
we are breathing fresh air,
energetic students,
are having classes, reading and listening.
in the spring,
specialized courses are being taught.
The teacher kept crew cut,
but he was simple and generous in his middle age.
instead of learning textbooks,
I drew a sun on the blackboard.
He is telling his classmates,
You are young as spring!
cherish youth,
don't miss the spring time!
if you play less and don't work hard,
you will be sad when you are old.
After a long time
Many, many years later, today
I suddenly feel deeply nostalgic
In this spring campus
Water lilies, cherries, wisteria flowers and camphor trees
set off by a familiar curved path
If at this time, Meet like yesterday
Can you
find a clear' smile' from the familiar figure
The crystal tears in that smile
are our most affectionate greetings to spring
The long runway connects history and the future
No matter how long it takes, it also
engraves the growth track in our exciting youth. Stand at this new starting point again
Do you feel the surging blood in your heart
That blood is still the flame that ignites hope
If time is not old, we still want to go into the classroom
Listen carefully to the teacher's rambling words
When the spring breeze pushes open the classroom window again
There are green trees and red flowers outside the window and
lines of words on the blackboard. Blooming with the fragrance of wisdom
Classroom and classroom are closely connected
Youth and spring transactive memory
We used to be so close to you
Laughter rushing from the corridor to the sky
and the figure strolling on campus. Once again, appreciate each other
No matter how far ahead
No matter how bitter, sweet and sour the future
Looking back, The campus will always reappear in spring.
Write down my dreams, and write down thousands of words about my graduation.
Teachers and classmates, as well as the fragrance and nostalgia of the garden.
Spring on campus
Abandon the silver and plain clothes that don't belong to me.
Now I,
appear more vibrant.
That obsession with beauty,
finally made me regain my pursuit of the meaning of life.
There are still red flowers and green trees telling me:
Red flowers
Although I will soon decline,
Although I am afraid of the darkness and loneliness at night.
But I will still live bravely,
watching the persistence of the wind and rain,
ignoring the impatient children and gently asking:
"When will you die,
so as to bear fruit?"
Because death is a mistake for me,
No matter how weak the wind blows me,
I will silently contribute,
my light and heat.
At the moment when I got my life back,
I made a promise to Spring,
Let my life,
pass brilliantly.
Green Trees
At this time,
I didn't choose to be silent.
In the romantic season,
the wind blows, and
the sound of rustling is like a song.
My new life,
was in the poet's atrium and the poet's courtyard,
the green sky was like a splash.
There are stars twinkling in the night on campus.
My continuous branches and buds,
once said confidently, "
The tranquility of the night,
has been broken by my growing voice."
Legend
In the spring on campus, Shuhua once let go of her throat to tell.
Spring on campus
The wind blows
Those pruned osmanthus trees sprout new buds
Naughty children
habitually tap the ping-pong table with chopsticks
It seems that the adults play a beautiful pipa
The grandmother who sent her grandchildren to school
seems to have dressed up at home
They lean on it. Leaning against the school gate
that has been sunburned by the morning sun warms your heart
occasionally, They also looked up at the flying national flag with muddy eyes
Female teachers wearing purple scarves or red scarves
Smiling and smiling as the blooming spring flowers
They couldn't care about the noisy sparrows overhead
They just talked with their own hair and warm morning breeze
The faces of all the sisters, They are all filled with intoxicating smiles for a long time
Some male teachers
don't have time to shave off their faces and beards
such as likui jy, such as Zhang Fei, and also like Tengger singer
they play basketball with kids on the court
Their laughter that shakes Dong village converges into a stirring Haruka
I stare at the mountains not far away
I meditate on Chongyang Pavilion.
Tracing back to the Miaojiang River, is the old willow still swaying?
Is it water under the bridge to miss the days when you used to wear a red scarf?
At this moment, the bell for class rings with the loud morning bell.