Appreciation of Mother's Prose Poems

Some people, when it comes to mothers, like to use a series? Most? For example, singing hymns? The most beautiful? 、? The kindest? 、? The best? I think this is understandable, because beauty, kindness and Excellence all represent their unshakable love for their mother. The following is an appreciation of my prose poems about my mother. Welcome to read!

Appreciation of Mother's Prose Poems "Song for Mother"

Mother is a magnificent ship,

Take me to the seaside,

Pursuing the mystery of life,

Explore the magic of the world,

Take me to my hometown on earth? Pearl Island? ;

Mother is a towering mountain,

Containing the treasure of all things,

Put responsibility and obligation and everything that belongs to maternal love,

Selfless dedication,

Feeding me, growing up,

I am strong physically and mentally;

Mother is a euphemistic song,

Take me anywhere,

With her beautiful tune,

Singing the beauty of the motherland,

Tell a long history,

Moisten my heart,

Teach me the secret of being a man;

Mother is a spring breeze person,

Blow up everything in the world,

Light footsteps bring vitality,

Let me always see the light everywhere, enjoy happiness and look forward to the future;

Mother is a spring rain,

Moistening the earth,

Raise a lovely life,

Create endless wealth,

Composed a cheerful melody.

Ah, mom,

I love you!

You are the best in my heart,

It's my mentor!

Step into society,

I have to watch out for the backstabbing of Ming XX.

Come home, mom, thank you,

I can disarm;

In the competition,

I feel black and blue,

Come home, mom, thank you,

You healed my wound;

Blend into the crowd,

I look small and thin,

Come home, mom, thank you,

You always say: I am your baby.

mother

Your pale fingertips touch my temple.

I can't help acting like a child.

Hold on to your skirt

Ah, mom.

In order to keep your fading figure

Although the morning light has cut the dream into smoke.

I still dare not open my eyes for a long time.

I still cherish that bright red scarf.

Afraid that cleaning will make it

Lose your unique warmth

Ah, mom.

Isn't the running water of the years just as ruthless?

I'm afraid the memory will fade, too.

How dare I open its screen easily?

I cried to you for a thorn.

Now I'm wearing a Jing Guan, and I dare not.

I dare not moan.

Ah, mom.

I often look up at your photos sadly.

Even if the call can penetrate the loess

How dare I disturb your sleep?

I dare not show the sacrifice of love like this.

Although I have written many songs.

For flowers, for the sea, for the dawn.

Ah, mom.

My sweet, soft and deep memory.

Not a torrent, not a waterfall.

It's a dry well, and it can't sing under the shade of flowers and trees.

draw/pump water

She is drawing water.

Two old wooden barrels

pat

Plump buttocks

Distant light

Can't shine

"I"

senile

She is my mother.

Severe arthritis

Order her

Can only stand

Every day is like this

draw water from a well

Nourish me

Sinomenium in vivo

If there ever comes a day when

She stopped.

It must be because of me.

Went far away.

Maternal love, the most selfless love in the world;

Maternal love, the kindest love in the world;

Maternal love, the greatest love in the world!

From the day you fell to the ground, she held you in her arms with warm big hands;

From the day you learned to speak, did she teach you to shout for the first time? Mom? !

She cried, tears of excitement, tears of pride.

No matter where you go, she will always hang up on you.

The height of the sky is never as high as a mother's desire for her children;

The width of the sea is never as wide as a mother's love for her children!

Keep it,

Folding into a very small boat,

Throw it into the sea from the boat.

Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,

Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.