I can't keep the shuttle time, banishing a blue sky, and the cold wind blows outside the window in January.
A person sitting in the depths of pain, gradually accustomed to quietly looking for themselves, messy thoughts are desolate and quiet.
Carrying a soul full of dust and pain, I will miss you instead, and the January wind falls from my fingertips. In the bleak script, the play will end.
January is still a person walking, secretly thinking about a warm feeling, a love, an eternal love, eroding the heart.
January is full of color, and everything is confused. My heart is a pen, my dream is a note, my chapter is broken, and that is my imagination of life.
Dreams come and go, pouring a pot of thin wine, with a slight melancholy mood, singing the fleeting time, keeping my thoughts.
February
Elegant warm wind blows across the face, revealing a trace of spring in strong yearning. This season takes place in February.
In the season when eagles and vultures fly for a long time, new green spots appear between the gaps in the grass, and the sun is whispering to nature quietly.
Is spring far behind? Valentine's Day on February 14 adds romance to February, and the warm and smiling sunshine meets spring.
Walking into February is like living in an embryo, with an impulse to follow one's inclinations and a proper maturity.
Enter February, listen to the notes fluttering in the spring breeze, date spring, feel spring, embrace spring and taste nature.
When I walked into February, I thought about what was impossible. I was relieved when I was hugged, and I was still stubbornly insisting.
March
Peach blossoms in March will be charming, smiles will be written on the face, dreams will be gorgeous, and moonlight will light up the stars.
With the embellishment of the spring rain, March holds up the flower folding fan and spends it in the dream. Affectionate wind holds up dreams.
Try to wake up the troubles of the years, open the spring, dance, laugh and breathe with butterflies.
The poet's lascivious eyes carefully searched for the poetic meaning of March and took to the dark green stage to render bright flowers.
Acacia in March, quietly in March, the poem has been lost, and there is still in my heart. If my heart is lost, it will be difficult to find the Buddha.
March is enchanting and warm in my life, and I can't sleep in the disease-like reverie, and I enjoy the theme of "red cherry and green banana".
April
Spring blossoms, shaking off the fatigue of one shoulder, my heart is full of love and my eyes are full of warmth.
Twisting a finger at the fragrance of flowers, pouring a cup of tender water, reading a page of tender feelings and understanding each other's thoughts have filled your eyes and moistened mine.
I met you in April, chasing white clouds, standing in the position of poetry, so touched.
A memory immersed in my mind in April, with moonlight salvaged from the water, peeped too much.
A miss, a pain, a nostalgia, a prayer, falls in the moonlight in April, and my miss is far away.
A little enchanting knocks on the beauty of April, and April still lights up the lights. I have been thinking about whether the color of acacia can flash in my dream.
May
In May, in the deepest part of the world of mortals, my lonely heart slowed down, and towards the blue sky in May, I couldn't get rid of the melancholy in my heart.
May, the mood is intense, or the thought can't stand provocation. Happiness is a product of fate and a kind of cultivation.
May's mood, charming and affectionate, dreams and memories circulating one after another, beautiful and romantic as burning thoughts.
In May, you can't escape from emotions, so indulge, indulge memories and indulge thoughts.
In May, we met in memories, and waves of romantic love surged in like a poetic cigarette butt.
In May, I reunited in the deepest part of the world of mortals, and was awakened by Menghe to add fragrance to tea, and the cherry red was long and soft.
June
June's straightforward personality, fiery feelings and heroic spirit are the first to react to the countryside.
Don't say how country people or animals try their best to resist the heat wave in June, when cicadas spread heat.
Farmers irrigated, the seedlings sneezed and turned green, and they were careless in jointing under the scorching sun in June.
The peasants were naked and wore baggy shorts, and the women shook their cattail fans desperately with open-minded smiles, adding vitality to June.
June in the countryside is the diligence of men and the virtue of women, a golden and mature oil painting in the wheat field, and the hope of harvesters.
June is full of strength and tenacity in life, which is a kind of harvest, a kind of maturity, a sweet joy in my heart and a sultry emotion.
July
Looking again with a smile, gathering, fluttering and wandering.
In the midsummer of July, the wind pecked at the heart of the lotus, causing it to give up early.
Enjoy the lotus pond from a distance and see the purity, quietness and softness of the lotus.
All the lotus flowers in July are in full bloom, which touches a magnificent visual feast.
Like frogs floating in July, the pink lotus pond is full of vitality.
Afraid of breaking a pool of blue waves and touching Egyptian dust.
August
The season inadvertently opened a gap, August came with the wind, the leaves in front of the steps were autumn, and my heart was still there.
Fingertips slide and dance wildly. When you enter August, what kind of scenery can you wait for, which is encouragement? Is it temptation? It's desire
Flowers bloom and fall in August, but they can't be linked with the eternal dream of yearning for the mysterious garden.
Time is still there, lost in deep struggle, kissing the attached dream like a night watchman.
I have a special liking for stirring poetry, sitting in the silent night, inviting the bright moon to sing alone and giving her my thoughts.
In the door of life, breaking through the door of tenderness, from missing to missing, combing the heart of the month.
September
The drunken beauty and maturity of September, accompanied by autumn wind, endless attachment and sadness of parting, a group of poems count the charm of September alone.
In September, I was immersed in the Mid-Autumn Festival (the lunar calendar). The poet's caring eyes released many worries, filled the sky with emotion and wrote the true colors of life.
The plot of September is absorbed into a fascinating world with unyielding soul, which is existence, beauty and pride, shaking off full tenderness and rising passion.
The incomplete beauty of September entrusted loneliness and dullness to the missing maple leaf, and dreams and hopes came quietly at the moment when the window was gently opened.
Listening to the footsteps in full yearning, touching the pain in eager longing, feeling the signs of life, and pouring love with bitterness and joy.
Unlock the empty cup dream that you have all your life, leave the eternal truth secret of life, let the true feelings in your heart turn around, and everything will be calm and indifferent.
October
People who stand outside the window of words and like words are not happy when they enter October. They are afraid of feeling sorry for the past and falling into it.
In October, the cold is invading my little dreams and longings, and a sad mood is watching with you in the deepest part of the world of mortals.
Sniffing the chill of October, I miss looking at the cold sky in a corner, letting my soul tear and spread, still looking back in the sadness left behind.
In October, the feeling is not over yet. Those who have stayed up all night will always inadvertently shed a few lonely rays of light and see the world of falling leaves dancing.
With a smile, I gradually hide myself and fill my inner desire alone, but I can't tell whether this is a dream or a reality, and I still support it.
It exists in the contradiction between beauty and illusion, shaking the prayer tube in the fragrant fog of the temple, and the trembling heart is blurred in October, so that the night can hear the existence of missing.
November
In November, the lingering feelings of frost and fog, like a lotus tree, sit alone in the lotus of morning light and sunshine.
The cold wind wandered freely in the dream, and the residual clouds still lingered on the flying flowers, even the autumn frost turned into dust.
An idea, put away many wounds, deep in time, soul-stirring singing, derived in the dark.
1 1 month, the dreamer is reborn, freed from the beautiful lotus, and has been watching the love that he will never see again pass away.
Crossing the port of time, the desire to climb high and look far, like a sleeping cicada, has become a symbol.
Open the light and shadow of memory, bid farewell to the original desire, restore my nature, and linger incredibly, slipping from my fingertips.
December
Soul thinking makes a beautiful mind. Infiltrating into a melting pot of infatuation, can December stage a rolling past and pick up one memory after another?
On December day, it can snow, and no tears are allowed. Who is the eternal person in his life must be the most beautiful reincarnation in this world.
1At the end of February, after controlling my emotions, I deeply touched my heart and made people understand some truth. Life goes on.
With the interpretation of the four seasons' reincarnation, the once lingering sadness is fixed in the remaining shallow dream, entering the beginning and continuing.
What was said in December is only for people who understand. Don't let inner emptiness or loneliness disturb your busy thoughts.
December, no longer escape, no longer escape, record the most beautiful time, down-to-earth love, or like romantic hate.