Inspirational prose poem about trees: a weeping tree and a yellow lamp at dusk.
Viscous light
A cool silver thread,
Bright water drops slipped down.
It's been blowing for a long time.
The wind outside the window is rolling in.
The imprint on enough paper is still bright and fresh.
Me and the night
Standing side by side, I saw a weeping tree.
An inspirational prose poem about a tree: Wait, that tree blooms in the afternoon and evening.
In every spare time.
Open the book and immerse your thoughts in the words.
The heart of knowledge has found peace.
If so, ask me.
What do you want most in your heart?
Think and become a butterfly.
An elegant and meaningful poem.
When a meteor streaks across the sky
I look up at the sky.
Make a wish gently, only one wish.
Push open the door of literature
Don't ask how high the mountain is and how far the road is.
I will stick to the intersection of years.
Turn a flowering heart
Hidden in words to nourish.
Sometimes, on a moonlit night.
I am depressed and confused.
I don't know, this barren land
Whether to cultivate fertile fields
When the warm sunshine outside the window
When you knock on the window lattice again
My infatuated heart
Then carve her words and ponder her poems.
I like the faint ink fragrance.
Like the feeling of touching books.
I will be here, sunny day after sunny day.
Wait, that tree is blooming.
Inspirational prose poem about trees: In the book of a tree, I am not alone, in the distance.
A bare tree in the snow
Tree rings, looking at the distance.
At this point, it doesn't.
Not lonely silence.
In the snow.
It is an infinite washing of my soul.
go bankrupt
The sound of birds on my shoulder
The refreshing morning light on my branch
Transparent rain and dew, crystal clear.
Xinghe, a dreamer on the moon
go bankrupt
In loneliness, in the distance
Put time on the curve,
Cold and hot wind translation
Gossip is a thorn in Siberia.
The wind carries a cold dagger.
Fog is the soup of ecstasy.
go bankrupt
The flame of the sun
The color of the sun
The soul of the sun
In my journal.
In the sound of my logs beating
To burn, to sing.
Go up and look away!
Put sunlight,
Compile the light of the soul
When I was encapsulated,
In the coffin of the soul
I sent it to my soul, a distant book.
Next to the book
This is a book about countless trees.
I saw the distance again.