Writing modern childhood poems: dreaming back to childhood

Childhood is a faded photo.

When I think about it occasionally

I can still stop.

Looking back at the distant childlike innocence and concern

The village in spring is very beautiful.

It is full of faint flowers.

The hen takes the children.

A pleasant walk

But I often worry about naughty cats.

Bullying its doll

Watermelon in the field

Growing up in my greedy saliva

I have stolen peaches before.

Trample on someone else's fence

I often go naked.

Play by the pond

Covered in yellow mud

Chasing jumping frogs.

A wheat field full of sunflowers

Is our battlefield.

Because of curiosity

Lick the bee's tail ...

Stand quietly on the river bank and look out.

That flaming sunset glow

Plumes of smoke beckon

Let's go home. /Let's go home.

A fiery hearth

The original "salad"

That unfinished math problem

Under the oil lamp

Once a young mother ...

Leave your heart here and I'll leave alone.

It has been immersed in

My childhood

-My most beautiful poems and paintings