Psalm 168

Poetry about mother

Author: Anonymous article Source: Unknown hits: 4099 Updated on March 5, 2006

Mother is like a lamp in the dark,

When I got lost,

She will guide me and light me up,

Towards the light,

Mom,

Mother is like the bright moon in autumn night,

When I'm lonely and helpless,

She will accompany me and support me,

Give me confidence.

Mom,

She's been busy for me,

Take great pains,

No regrets,

So, on this annual Mother's Day,

I have to say,

Mom, thank you! I love you!

Motherly love (2)

Mountain, not as high as maternal love;

Sea, not as deep as maternal love;

God, love without a mother is vast;

Naturally, there is no mother's love and tolerance;

Sunshine is not as warm as maternal love;

Clouds are not as white as maternal love;

Flowers are not as brilliant as maternal love.

mother

Who will dress us when we are cold?

Who will cook for us when we are hungry?

Who encouraged us when we failed?

Happy for us when we succeed?

She is not a robot; Not a computer,

She is my mother.

Mom is not Santa Maria,

Not Jesus,

Not god,

But she is as gentle and kind as Santa Maya.

Full of love like Jesus,

As smart as God.

Ah! Mom, that's great!

love

Maybe the years have taken away your grace,

Your pale hair,

But it will never take away your kind smile?

Mom, on this special day,

Please let me express my sincere thanks!

Happy mother's day.

word

My dear mother,

I can't say enough,

I can't finish what I want to write,

Everything,

Everything is in silence.

Angel of spring

Mother is like an angel in spring,

Brought a warm spring breeze,

Brought a silky light rain,

Blow into the child's heart,

Understand the needs of children,

This loving angel,

Take care of the children's lives,

Protect the safety of children,

Gave everything,

No matter how bad we are,

Mother, angel,

There is still a lot of data,

Forgive us.

Mother's love is like a piece of candy.

Mother's love,

Like a candy bar,

Pestering and nagging,

Hiding in the curse,

Let me look around,

Before I know it,

Just found it.

-

/dispbbs.asp? boardID = 4 & ampID= 1803。 page= 1

A poem for mother

The first volume "Harvest Life"

I fell in love with my mother's face from the day I was born.

one

I stared at the sunset on the slope.

In the twilight, hippos carry the moon.

A new star

It is full of my sadness.

My thoughts are in ink.

Swim loudly

My pen spent the summer on manuscript paper.

Missing is all over my forehead.

Turn the muddy night around

Mother's messy hair

In the drizzle

In the river in my hometown.

I think of my mother's beauty and gentleness.

I think of my mother's smile.

Acacia climbed up my cheek.

I am everyone in the moonlight.

A cheerful river

My dream is on the riverbed of my hometown.

Stay in the hot land together

Mother is in the eyes of rice and wheat

Full of traces of time.

I stare at the years, it is like a sickle.

Waiting for the autumn harvest

I am swaying in the sweet fruit.

My autumn

It belongs to the season of poetry.

two

Every memory of my hometown

Live in my mind

A flock of sparrows flew in.

All the poems related to dreams.

I'm a kid with a slingshot

I suddenly burst into tears.

My eyes

Fly along the rolling mountains

The color overlooking the human dream.

The swallow whispered to me kindly.

I playfully hung upside down on the branch.

From fiddling with the secrets of my palm prints

Those wild vegetables, stones and rabbits

I hold the torch of spring.

Through the night

With the wings of my poetry

Standing on a barren hill

The eagle swooped by.

Ripe grain

I sing at dawn in autumn.

I am in a happy country.

Selflessly sow the longing and passion of childhood.

Wheat field where the soul lives

The language of poetry is silent wheat.

Now, I am calm.

Lying in the eyes of fireflies

My poem

Take me to heaven.

I found it by accident.

A pair of waterfowl wings

Draw a picture of yourself.

blue sky

Walking under willow leaves in May

Harvest moist eyes.

My mind

In a crazy desire

I am an affectionate person.

The story of the river

I saw my father writhing in pain.

That starry night

Father lost the dam.

three

Now, I put my father's smile

And the river that has been silent.

Into my dream of fire.

Turn yellow November

Burning moldy poetry

I saw my mother's thin back.

Tender feelings for father.

Her love for her father.

Buried in the mountains of loyalty

I don't know how to comfort.

I tried to turn the crazy river

Enact laws

A stone engraved with poetry.

Stop fresh body in rainy season.

I walked into the language and into the river.

I am on the shore of the high tide.

Draw a pair of angry eyes

Mother crawled with difficulty.

In the pain of tearing

The years passed slowly on her mottled forehead.

Wet rainy season

Her hard bones and muscles.

Suffer from rheumatism.

I tried to put all the poems

Into distilled medicinal liquor.

All spilled on the wheat fields in May.

Let the flame grow wildly in the wheat field

Let the language be in the mother's blood vessels.

Run fast

Let poetry relieve pain.

four

Because mother can't walk upright.

I lost my memory overnight.

I am like a scalper with a big mouth.

Talking about the fate of grass.

I became a sleepy pig.

Eating day and night.

Lots of food and ideas.

My mother filled my life with tears.

It was planted in my hometown of vilen.

Silent century

Resurrection in my soul

I have always been that stubborn person.

On the land of breathing

I have a fresh breath.

I planted the seeds of poetry in Yuan Ye.

I am looking forward to it.

When poetry grows into a seedling,

A sickly mother

There is food for the winter.

I try to use the words of my soul

Bury oneself

In fact, I have long been captured by poetry.

Father turned into those smooth stones.

Open a bunch of strong eyes

In the soft moonlight

Filled with a bunch of fruit

Over a high mountain peak

Father's figure in the biting wind.

Gradually become the fossil of poetry.

My soul shines in his spirit.

I walked all night.

Struggling through their tough auras.

Put stars and flames

Hold your head high.

My dry eyes

Be shot with a long arrow

Finally, my soul

Back to the middle of the river