I am the dancing wind
You are a quiet land.
I am a shadow through your land.
I am a vibrating leaf.
You are a quiet tree.
You are a determined star.
I am the sea.
You're A Ring of Endless Light.
I want to go out like a torch. You are the wave of deep music.
And I, who can only cry and love, secretly infiltrated a summer green poem, which is complicated and intertwined. Love wrapped in spring chooses a stormy night, beer and poetry are green, ancient love is burning, flashing in the distant legend of Bianhuang Collection. Fireflies opened their eyes wide, so the stars in the sky drifted, infiltrating deep feelings into beautiful flowers, dissolving them into a song, gently rolling down your quiet heart, the lake, ripples and circles, turning them into a staff, and the world gently floated down mysterious songs. When love has condensed into a poem, maybe the years will stop. How long will my love last? This silent green has appeared as a poetic branch in the long river of time. The oriole dances with the rainbow of the century. Their cries dripped into the boundless silence. The true colors of life are embedded in the primary colors of love. Colored stones radiate dazzling moments, and lead flowers wash away the embers of the Six Dynasties. Butterflies in the distance sway into a melancholy sunset glow in the wind, and they are born softly. If the morning glow is red, they will no longer be infatuated with all my dreams. . . . . . I don't want to dance in the green years because the green poems have condensed into melancholy love, and the flying soul rushes out of the gray shackles to weave a crystal dream for me. Her green silence, because of the color of hope and the essence of life, condensed into green poems. Green has filled all the spaces. Noble bird singing love is condensed into a green poetic love world, which is only the sincerity of the world and the whisper of the soul. The wind has lost its meaning of existence. Autumn wind, dead branches, fallen leaves, canoes, beautiful scenery, my love world is no longer pale with you. Summer is born in the blooming season, and the fields should be as bright as green whistling flowers, with a smell of green grass and roses. . . . . . Once upon a time, I decided to refuse love, but I didn't find that my poems condensed too much love, which was heavy and depressing. Is it only the helplessness of my heartbeat? Love, a poem condensed into green, is full of growing power. It broke the weak mother's body, falling flowers and falling flowers, and Fang Fei was silent. Love poems of the earth are flying in the sky, and the warm rain is conveying tenderness and comfort. Messy words piled up in front of my eyes, building a palace of poetry with a smart heart. Love sprouted and swelled in it. I couldn't control the word, jumping and laughing like an elf. . . . . . Golden light rippling in the clouds, recalling or imagining? Isn't there a paradise on earth ahead? The poems of the years have condensed too much sentimental love and are full of melancholy. There is my blue melancholy and purple romance, but it has become an ocean of love. Love condenses into green poems in this prosperous time, spreading in the heart of the curtain, eager for its growth and germination. . . There is my red passion in the poem. How to face the sincere love of the earth? This article is an online search. Hey hey.