Gratitude poetry recitation grade two

I Love You Forever —— A poem dedicated to my alma mater. I hang your name on my chest every day. I can feel your great love. You will always be my forest. I am a small seed. My thoughts germinate under your care. Every time I look up at you, your shoulders are like a wooden house with blue sky and white clouds. I once imagined that we could stand together forever. All the beautiful mornings and nights wake up at your feet and go to sleep silently until today. A touching tree relives the love you gave me, so that I can stand in the corner of my life like you and form the shade of September in the storm of years-a poem dedicated to Teacher's Day, which is fruity and yellow in September, but I can still smell it. The fragrance of peaches and plums in March and the cool autumn in September give us an introverted and dignified autumn. The fruit of September gives us maturity and gives us yearning for autumn. In this golden autumn season, we have the self-evident happiness of peaches and plums and go our separate ways. Children, I hope your eyes are shining with hope, and don't wander deeply at the fork in the road of life. I hope my soul will light the lighthouse in your heart and hold the right course for you in the dark sea. I would like to use my silent and persistent heart to create thousands of possible paths for you on the three-foot platform. I would like to live and study with your youthful passion, grow together and bloom for life! I know that this festival reflects China people's respect and hope for teachers for thousands of years. Chalk and branches Gaga draw the curve of life. Homework, accumulated layer by layer, is an eager expectation. I am no longer a candlelight, because the faint candlelight is not enough to illuminate your direction; I will not be a silkworm, because it is not the dream of a free soul that binds me. I am the sun, burning and generating, bringing you radiant heat; As the leading goose, I spread my wings and soar with you in the clear sky of Wan Li. Children, I want you to look at the wider world. Children, I am just a ray of sunshine in September. On the journey of your growth, I, we, for the future of the nation, for the hope of the nation, we will burn brighter than the sky and ignite your pile of warm fire! In September, we trudged between Japan and China. We have given everything and gained everything. It is your diligence and love that make our pockets swell, and we are full of * * *, because like you, we are all free masters of life. The sails are still sailing in September, children, I want you to say loudly, "OK, I'm coming. Follow you-my captain-"= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = A poem dedicated to Teachers' Day: Fruity September, Chrysanthemum. We remember who was still sowing hope for us in September. We haven't forgotten who silently made our wedding dress in September. Let's never forget September. We dare not forget who taught us thought. In September, I dare not forget who made the world have love and books. In September, we dare not forget who built the temple of knowledge with hard work. In September, we dare not forget who guided us in confusion. In September, we watched the wheat wave harvest. In September, we are still growing up in textbooks. We won't forget. There is something called sacredness, something called divinity, that is, the enlightened star on the horizon, which silently follows the light coming first and then going back countless times, something called eternity, that is, the rock returning from watching the tide by the sea, which gradually exhausted its life in the wind and rain and became a totem worshipped by countless pilgrims, and something called sincerity, that is, the unadorned white clouds carried too many birds eager to fly with their own fatigue. There is something in her eyes called love, simplicity, dedication or farewell praise, because she is so beautiful. Yes, some people wrote a great poem by themselves, just like the wordless ears of wheat grow and harvest, and then give birth to hope. We grow up in the sunshine of love. How many times have we grown up with the true feelings of the world, and how many times have we fallen asleep with the feeling of happiness? Let's assume that the last Thursday in June is Thanksgiving Day. Although far away, we have a grateful heart. People who are always grateful are the happiest, and grateful life is the sweetest. Learn to be grateful-thank my parents, because they gave me precious life, learn to be grateful-thank my teachers, because they gave me endless knowledge, learn to be grateful-thank my friends, because they gave me the strength to overcome difficulties, learn to be grateful-thank everything around me, because they gave me a harmonious and healthy growth space. Don't forget to say-"thank you. There is a saying that is the kindest, and there is a telephone that is the most beautiful. There is one person who should be grateful most. It's "mom" Her mother has deep wrinkles. She gave her beautiful youth to my mother's hand. She gave warm sunshine to my mother's waist. She looked straight into my mother's eyes. She gave me bright eyes, let me face her deep feelings and listen to her ardent hopes. We should learn to be grateful. I gradually forgot to be moved and forgot to say thank you. Motherly love is like a cup of strong tea, which needs us to savor carefully.