How to write a wonderful childhood poem

In the warm sunshine, cuckoos are chirping and laughing, and the hands of poplars are shaking with the wind, and the childish songs are wandering in the running water. In this way, the happy years are flowing in the green birch forest, with insects whispering, white dandelions emitting beautiful flower caps, and the partners gathering in the wind are running intoxicating. In this way, they jump along the gurgling stream, with fish frolicking, oily water plants swinging and gentle lines screaming across the sky. The troubles of childhood and the joy of childhood are so silently gone. Childhood is a fresh song. I use my immature hands to compose the days into a string of notes and jump through my fingers. Childhood is a pure blue painting. I use my clear eyes to paint the years into a pure blue river flowing in my heart.