A short essay suitable for reciting 1 Grandma is sitting on a cane chair, and one hand is slowly stroking her long white beard. Grandma can tell stories.
Was the story in the Woods written by a bird? Are the stories in the sea packed in shells? Grandma's story, like the stars in the sky, is endless. Where did it come from?
My brother said grandma's story was hidden in my stomach. Why is there no story in your stomach? My sister said that grandma's story was in her mind. Why is there no story in my head?
No, grandma's story must be hidden in a long white beard, like a bird in the forest and a shell in the sea. Otherwise, why does grandma always stroke her long white beard slowly with one hand when telling stories?
For some reason, grandma shaved off her long beard. Adults say grandma is young. But grandma hasn't told stories for a long time. Did grandma's story get shaved off by her long beard? I'll ask grandma. Grandma is writing something slowly with a brush. Grandma wants to write a book and tell his story to more children.
Is grandma's brush made of beard?
Who is walking in the Woods on rainy days? The road in the Woods is slippery, and it rains heavily in the Woods!
It is Xiao Rong who goes to grandma's house. She is wearing red overshoes, holding a flower umbrella and singing a beautiful song.
If you walk with a song, the road will not slip, the raindrops will not be heavy, and you will not be tired if you walk a long way.
Really, you see, the little rabbit has put up a big leaf, and is singing after Miss Xiaorong.
The road is really not slippery, and the rain is really not big!
Look, look, the little squirrel comes with its tail, and the sika deer comes with its beautiful horns. "wheezing-""wheezing-"here comes the little wild boar again.
The little wild boar said awkwardly, "but I don't have an umbrella, and besides, I don't know what song to sing!" " "
At this time, a golden monkey with a big lotus leaf jumped down from the tree and landed on the wild boar. "Let me be your umbrella!" ! There are songs everywhere in the Woods! "Said the golden monkey.
Really, the Woods are full of songs! Xiaorong sings the song of small wild flowers, the rabbit sings the song of grass, the squirrel sings the song of picking pine nuts, and Sandel sings the song of small mountain spring-small wild boar. In a hurry, it sang a wild hawthorn song.
Singing, singing, Xiaorong's grandmother's house has arrived.
Children and their mothers are playing hide-and-seek in the Woods.
Two pink butterflies flew away from their mother, chasing the fluttering locks of long hair and disappearing into the flowers.
"Mom, look for it and see where I am hiding?"
Mother deliberately didn't go to see the flowers, but walked to a big tree. The tree shook gently, making a sound of going, going, and clusters of small mushrooms stood under the tree with umbrellas.
"Mom, don't look behind the big tree. There are birds there. Don't scare it away." Mom stopped, still not looking at the flowers, but deliberately pushed the grass tree away with her hand. A big-bellied slug was disturbed, and a tall boy jumped to the top of the grass and played leisurely on the swing.
"Mom, don't look into the grass tree, there is a rabbit there, don't scare it away!"
At this time, my mother stood on tiptoe and walked step by step to the flowers. The child closed his eyes and giggled. Suddenly, the mother hugged the child.
The child raised his face and asked inexplicably, "Mom, how did you know I was hiding in the flowers?"
My mother said sweetly, "My little girl is a talking and laughing chrysanthemum!" " "
Today, the world suddenly becomes so beautiful!
I have been looking forward to the snowflake for so long. When I dream, it has quietly covered the whole world.
The bare trees are white, the yellow mountains are white, and the road in front of my house is white. I seem to have come to the hometown of Baiyun.
Snow White, will you stay here forever?
Many feet, walking through the snow; Many wheels are rolling on the snow. There are messy ruts and footprints in the snow-
I really want to say loudly: "the whiteness here is the life of snowflake, don't dirty her!" " "
On the roadside, there is a piece of snow, which has not been trampled, leaving a piece of white. I ran there and stopped an uncle:
"Uncle, please go there!"
My uncle was surprised, smiled at me and walked past me.
I also smiled and said to myself, I want to stay here and protect this little whiteness, just like protecting a beautiful dream-
Short essay suitable for reciting 5 Go to school in spring and pick flowers all the way. The yellow one is Bo Gongying, the purple one is plantain seed flower, and the green one is broken bowl flower-all the way, picking all the way, picking all over the hands, smelling all over the classroom, and later.
Go to school in summer and travel all the way. The stream flows down from the mountain, and we jump over the rocks with it, bend over with it, and sing with the tinkling sound of water. Finally, the floor of the classroom is covered with wet shoe prints of various patterns.
Go to school in autumn and eat all the way. The green walnuts that fall to the ground are like black charcoal strips on your fingers and cannot be washed off; Pick dates to eat, whichever tree is red, pick which tree; If it's not red today, it will be red tomorrow. You don't need to bring rice. Your stomach is full. Going to school in winter, the stream becomes a long slide. We either stand or sit, run on the ice, or ask our partners to help us form a line, and then slide from home to school. Dadada, dadada, all the way, open your eyes as if you were in a car; Close your eyes as if you were flying. "Here we are!" The partners reminded each other to avoid sitting in the "station". Everyone blamed the school for being too close and too close.
Short prose suitable for reciting 6 A person is holding an oil-paper umbrella.
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane,
I hope to see
Like cloves.
A girl with a grudge.
She has the color of lilacs,
Lilac-like fragrance,
Sad as cloves,
Mourning in the rain,
Sadness and hesitation;
She lingers in this lonely rain lane,
Hold an oil-paper umbrella
Like me,
Like me.
Walking silently,
Cold, sad, melancholy.
She approached silently and threw it again.
Breathing eyes
She drifted like a dream,
As sad and confused as a dream.
Floating like a dream
A lilac field,
I passed this girl by;
She went away silently, far away,
A crumbling fence,
Walk through this rainy path.
In the lamentation of the rain,
Remove her color,
Eliminate her fragrance,
Disappeared, even hers
Breathing eyes,
Lilac is melancholy.
Holding an oil-paper umbrella alone
Wandering in the long, long
Lonely rain lane,
I hope to float over.
Like cloves.
A girl with a grudge.
An essay suitable for reciting 7 is waiting for you, making rainbows in the rain.
The cicada falls and the frog rises.
A pool of red lotus is like a red flame.
in the rain
It doesn't matter whether you come or not,
Feel unexpectedly
Every lotus is like you.
Especially at dusk,
Through this drizzle
Eternity,
Instant, instant, eternity
Waiting for you,
Outside of time, within time,
Waiting for you,
In an instant, eternity.
If your hand is in my hand, at this moment.
If your qingfen
In my nostrils, I would say, little lover.
No, this hand should be picking lotus, in the Wu Palace.
This hand should be
Shake a handful of cinnamon pulp,
On Mulan boat
A star hangs on the cornice of the science museum.
Hanging like an eardrop
The Swiss watch says it's seven o'clock.
Suddenly you came.
Red lotus after the rain,
Pianpian, there you are.
Like a poem.
You come from a love story.
In the words of Jiang Baishi,
With the rhythm, you came.
I have wandered in the storm, I have stood on the waves and thought hard, and I have shouted to poverty and backwardness. I finally stand in the long river of history and today, and I want to swear: challenge the god of fate!
Don't buy and complain that our parents have given us poor and backward soil; Don't complain, the vicissitudes of the world have ruined our thin backbone.
I will never pray to God to give me a rich and civilized home and let me die in peace. Since it is fate, I will challenge, and I am willing to be a rebel of God!
How many times I drifted in the wind and rain, wandering and looking for it made me understand the value of life; How many times have I thought on the waves, thinking and dreaming made me look at the navigation mark.
At the starting point of poverty and backwardness, I will sail along the rivers of history and today. ......
Where is the bread? Where is it? !
"There will be bread and everything!"
In the challenge against fate, my eternal belief: that is my strength!
(1992 1 1 month)
The essay 9 "Fate with Water", which is suitable for reciting, makes me move from imagination to reality.
The real sea, the behavior of water is spectacular, and you stand in this eternal spectacular.
First of all, let me appreciate your nakedness and turn your essence and wisdom into the pride of the sea. When you come back from wandering and stand on the beach, even if you whistle, your poems are sparkling and the soul of the sea is rippling.
Then there is meditation, because a cloud, a sail, a trace of sea breeze. Melancholy is the theme of beauty. Living in this melancholy is enriched and inspired, just like the melancholy of the sea is broad and vast, lasting and rich.
Melancholy brings the world into your heart; The world keeps you alive.
The sun rises and the moon sets, the tide rises and falls, and your shadow is elongated and shortened. And the beach, in your deep and shallow footprints, is full of white life and the crystallization of truth.
How much melancholy eyes look forward to, how much anxious soul thinking, are precipitated in the footprints of this line of life.
Who will harvest these fruits?
The first sunset, you held me tight and stood for a long time?
A short essay suitable for reciting 10 You are searching hard in the sea and crossing to the other side.
The weather seems to be idling in your sky, and your eyes rise from the sea, penetrate the mist and approach every star.
What can the twinkling of the stars show, just like the pulse of the sea is stirring at this time, which makes you happy, but makes you empty.
You are getting closer and closer to the star. When you put down the mast, float freely on the calm sea and sing, you will find the exact position of your berth.
Do you think that is the star that guides you to find your home?
That's your shadow. An island that you have persisted for a long time, but still far away, appears before your eyes.
Of course it is bright, deep in your heart, in front of your life's voyage.
You experience a summoning power, just like your ship is experiencing a direction and flow. In your clear and beautiful singing, what is constantly rippling on the sea is not incomparable praise and admiration, incomparable happiness and joy?
Of course you don't think there is an island. Actually, where are the stars?
Your real happiness lies in this moment of awakening. What you are looking for in this boundless sea is not this boundless and vast blue sea?
A short essay suitable for reciting11In the spring of 2008, bauhinia bloomed and the scarlet flower was a scarlet butterfly; The snow-white flower is a jade butterfly.
I was ill in bed last spring. Outside the window, crimson white butterflies are still bustling in the branches of bauhinia; At the window, I have been dying for a long time, and I feel the loneliness of spring. At this time, she, a friend who is usually silent and has never been with me much, brings me red and white butterflies from the bauhinia tree every day and puts them in a "Biluochun" bottle filled with clear water. That touch of spring scenery reminds people of many unyielding lives and dares to overcome the severe winter. I learned life from it and picked up vitality.
This spring, bauhinia is in full bloom again. Crimson, snow-white butterflies, like social groups, are flying in the streets. A touch of morning light reflected in the window, and I was healthy physically and mentally. I came to Bauhinia gently, picked a white butterfly with dew and a red butterfly with a smile, and gave it to him-that silent and gentle friend.
Such a gift may be too small, but I think it will become a continuous dream, a poem; Will turn into patches of rosy clouds, put a raincoat on your friend's heart to shelter from the wind and rain.
A short article suitable for reading 12 Walking in the forest, a leaf slowly falls. It is a leaf without insect eyes, but it has withered and turned yellow and become extremely fragile.
The stems on the leaves criss-cross and seem to record countless stories, but from the moment it leaves the branches, those stories that may still be developing can only stop there.
People who see this scene may feel a little sad, stepping on soft leaves and afraid to move forward, because every step of the static leaves will give out a cry of life. At this moment, I want to hold my breath so that I can only hear the sound of the wind blowing around me, but I see a gust of wind rolling up a few leaves on the ground and blowing off a few leaves on the tree. Leaves rise and fall with the wind, sometimes like whirlpools, sometimes as still as stagnant water. I don't know when another gust of wind will come, nor where the next gust of wind will take me.
Just as everyone's life rises and falls with the tide of society, when the battery can't stop, it will always remind us that one day people's life will become yellow and fragile, and the story of life will suddenly be written. The autumn sunshine witnessed all this through the cracks in the leaves, but it was not like the spring sunshine hiding to make the spring rain cry. The sunshine in autumn is stronger than that in spring, and the scenery in autumn is more emotional than that in spring.
Short prose suitable for reciting 13 my motherland,
The mountains are towering,
The majestic mountain peaks overlook the storms of history.
Twilight is boundless,
Let the wind and cloud pass.
The solid back has withstood the vicissitudes of hundreds of millions of years.
My motherland,
The river runs,
The mighty torrent rushes through the whirlpool of history,
Rush forward bravely,
Wash away the filth of a hundred years,
The stormy waves hit the canyon, and there were many ups and downs of fate.
My motherland,
Vast territory and rich resources,
Beautiful scenery breeds splendid traditional culture.
The desert accepts the sunset,
Full moon and drunken lotus,
How many splendid civilizations are still shining on the land of China.
The people are hardworking,
Fifty-six ethnic groups sympathize with each other,
The magnificence of oriental charm,
The romantic style of humanistic style,
How many beautiful and moving legends have been passed down through the ages.
This is my motherland,
This is my beloved motherland.
I like your long and splendid history,
I like the flowers on every inch of your land,
I love your magnificent rivers and mountains,
I love you. The people are tenacious.
My motherland,
My beloved motherland.
You are a cock with your head held high-wake up the silence of dawn, and you are a dragon soaring into the sky-the wind and cloud of the times.
You are a lion, dancing the glory of China.
You are the origin of human wisdom-igniting the spark of civilization.
You have a sacred name,
That's China!
A short article suitable for reciting 14 will think of green when it comes to spring. Green symbolizes exuberant vitality, struggle and progress, and the bud of new things. Looking at this green, I seem to smell the fragrance of flowers and plants, and my heart is full of freshness and comfort with the rhythm of flowers and plants.
The sky in spring, sometimes without a cloud, is like a piece of pure white paper, so white that people can't bear to draw; Sometimes, it seems to be washed again, and You Lan is refreshing.
Walking in the field, I can't help smelling the softness of the soil. It does not have the attractive and rich fragrance of roses, nor the elegant fragrance of jasmine, but it has a natural and intoxicating taste. Stepping on soft soil makes people feel like stepping on a soft carpet, which is comfortable and comfortable. Perhaps in front of this land, many tenacious lives will be bred, and I am looking forward to it.
Slow down, I think of spring and feel that spring is created. In this way, some people may laugh. Spring is the alternation of four seasons, which is an inevitable law. How can we create it? But touch spring gently, and you will find that it is indeed created by all living things and nature.
Spring is beautiful, but the harvest of a year begins in spring, which is the season of gestation and creation. It can bring pressure as well as motivation.
Open your heart, touch the soft spring, and face the sea full of spring flowers. Set your heart in this colorful, waiting for the beauty of spring, looking forward to the legend of spring, feeling the tranquility of spring and waiting for the heart of spring.
Facing the sea, 15, a short essay suitable for reciting, has no intention of building a tall and straight mountain, nor does it want to hide two-thirds of itself in the water. I don't want to invent sublimity to seduce those pure and naive wise men, nor do I want to show off modesty to deceive those kind and sincere people with lofty ideals. I don't want to show off my pain, sadness and tragic exaggeration in front of women, so I have my own island, as well as its tenacity and freedom.
The sea is so beautiful, isn't it? You said yes, that's right The meaning of the sea is not only to make people feel beautiful, but also to let you observe life and stir up the beauty of the soul.
The island is a masterpiece of the sea, and you are a masterpiece of the island. When the sea is calm, the sea is the masterpiece of your soul.
Looking at the sea on an isolated island, the sea is real and you become sincere. It can make people sincere and beautiful, stimulate creativity, give vitality, love and hate, gain and loss, pain and joy, sublime and vulgar. Who thinks these things are meaningful, but also goes to great lengths to demonstrate, argue, describe mediocrity and pour out boredom?
Where is one's home? You've been looking for it for a long time. When you no longer think you have a home, you soon forget it, just like this silent island. When you bear everything in the boundless sea and are indifferent to everything, don't you go back to your home?
Short prose suitable for reciting 16 Who is walking in the Woods on rainy days? The road in the Woods is slippery, and it rains heavily in the Woods!
It is Xiao Rong who goes to grandma's house. She wore red overshoes, and then sang a beautiful song with a flower umbrella.
If you walk with a song, the road will not slip, the raindrops will not be heavy, and you will not be tired if you walk a long way.
Really, you see, the little rabbit has put up a big leaf, and is singing after Miss Xiaorong.
The road is really not slippery, and the rain is really not big!
Look, look, the little squirrel comes with its tail, and the sika deer comes with its beautiful horns. "wheezing-""wheezing-"here comes the little wild boar again.
The little wild boar said awkwardly, "but I don't have an umbrella." Besides, I don't know what to sing! " "
At this time, a golden monkey with a big lotus leaf jumped down from the tree and landed on the wild boar. "Let me be your umbrella!" ! There are songs everywhere in the Woods! "Said the golden monkey.
Really, the Woods are full of songs! Xiaorong sings the song of small wild flowers, the rabbit sings the song of grass, the squirrel sings the song of picking pine nuts, and Sandel sings the song of small mountain spring-small wild boar. In a hurry, it sang a wild hawthorn song.
Singing, singing, Xiaorong's grandmother's house has arrived.
A short article suitable for reciting 17, the tail of a kite is so gorgeous in your sight and mine.
Blue purple is the blue purple of the orchid, which adds a romantic atmosphere to the plain temperament. Two completely different moods, layered on top of each other, interweave together, blend and rise, turn into refreshing fragrance, and warm your heart and mine.
Dog, I will be more grateful for it. A simple branch, absorbed a thick happiness, merged into one, dispersed its sweetness, dispersed its coziness, dispersed its intoxication, dispersed it for a long time, and all entered my feelings. Just like a flower in my heart, no matter how long it takes, I am willing to wait for it to germinate, grow leaves, blossom, brilliant Pinellia ternata, gorgeous for a lifetime and warm for three generations.
From then on, I have a feeling of life in my heart, so that in my future life choice, as long as my desire is not lost and there is room for weaving, I will stick to my bright and beautiful dream, stick to the way I came, splice all the highlights of my life and continue to move in the direction of my heart.
Dog, I said I would like to be a warm little girl with you. I don't know who can warm this season, but I'm sure this season has warmed me. Close your eyes, it's still the season when the moon is full and the sun is scattered. Full of purple and blue, large irises fly and bloom like butterflies, flying and settling in the flowing dust, help me find your mark.
I often get up early to watch the sunrise. It was still dark at that time, and it was quiet around. There is only the sound of machines on board.
The sky is still light blue, and the color is very light. In the blink of an eye, a Xia Hong appeared on the horizon, slowly expanding the scope and strengthening the light. I knew the sun was going to rise on the horizon, so I didn't look there in the blink of an eye.
Sure enough, after a while, half of the sun's face appeared in that place. Red is Zhen Hong, but there is no light. The sun seems to be struggling to rise step by step. Finally, it finally broke through the clouds and jumped out of the sea completely, with a lovely red color. In an instant, this crimson round thing suddenly shone brightly, making people's eyes ache, and the clouds beside it suddenly became dazzling.
Sometimes the sun goes into the clouds, but its light shoots down from the clouds and hits the water directly. It's not easy to tell clear water from sky at this time, because I only see a light.
Sometimes there are black clouds on the horizon, and the clouds are so thick that people can't see the sun when it comes out. However, the sun's radiation in the dark clouds passed through the encirclement of the dark clouds and set them with glowing Phnom Penh. Later, the sun slowly rushed out of the tight encirclement and appeared in the sky, even dyeing the dark clouds purple or red. At this time, not only the sun, clouds and sea water shine, but also I become bright.
Isn't this a great spectacle?
Suitable for reading 19 I lost a dream. In the middle of the night, I dressed and looked around.
It was dark and the road was muddy. I don't know where I should go.
There is a big white fog in front of me. I can't see the road, and I can't find my footprints.
There is also a vast white fog behind, and everything is buried like snow. I can't see a figure.
There is no road. So, where will the dream escape?
I'm still going forward. I'm careful. I'm afraid I'll slip and fall into the ditch.
I walked to the door of a small shop. There is an oil lamp on the counter and a white-haired old man sits behind it. I greeted him and asked him if he had seen what I lost.
What are you looking for, young man?
"I am looking for a dream."
"A dream? I have a lot here, "the old man grinned. "I have many dreams here, but I don't know which one you want?" "What I lost was a dream that could fly."
"I don't know if dreams can fly, but you see, they are colorful and dazzling. You can choose any one of them without spending too much money. " He opened the window for me.
Countless dreams are there like commodities. It is indeed all kinds of dreams: some look magnificent, some are colorful, some are ecstatic with laughter, and some are pathetic in shape. No dream can fly.
I said, let's live in obscurity until we achieve something. If we only deserve to be looked down upon, then why should we ask others to respect us? When we gain our foothold in the world, when we participate in the process of determining the world, we can be happy with others. Until then, let's stay behind the scenes and take care of our own affairs.
However, our compatriots seem to hold the opposite opinion. They don't pay attention to our milder and more basic demands, which can only be met behind the scenes-all their attention has turned to temporary posturing and self-display.
Our country is really a country abandoned by God. In fact, it is difficult for us to keep our will to take action. We can't get any meaningful help. Within miles of Fiona Fang around us, we can't find anyone to talk to and gain energy. No one seems to be thinking, feeling or working around. No one has any hard work or real life experience. They all just eat and drink, work, smoke, sleep and chat. When it comes to emotions, it becomes sentimental, and when it comes to reason, it seems childish and ridiculous. People yearn for a soft-blooded, determined and versatile personality; But these people are shadows, flying around and having nothing to do with the world.