A poem about the forest: to the forest. In the moonlight, I am a butterfly in the forest.
Give off clear light
Look! Ivy covered with years.
It began to turn purple.
Somehow, blue and purple have alternated for thousands of years.
Is the forest big?
Is the world small?
Just between you and me, across.
A kiss
The second part of the poem about the forest: the forest walks into this forest
It won't rain.
I won't get lost.
Love is in the distant sky
Spread out old faces
Some tenderness will not be repeated.
Some old ideas
Around the factory.
What follows me is your white hair.
Eyes, look inward
People's suffering
Since winter
You won't make the same mistake in the dark.
Like the last piece of ice in winter
Will melt in the spring breeze
I will be in the light, too
Born in azaleas
Then in the sunset.
We started walking.
Walk into the boundless forest
Poetry about the forest: Walking in the forest, walking in the shady forest.
Orchids are in full bloom in my heart
A few rays of sunshine came in.
Dead red pine needles covered the mountain road.
It's like laying a thick carpet.
Listen to the wind sing softly.
The treetops nodded as if to greet me.
Through the depths of the forest
Tall pine trees are vigorous and tall.
Stand upright in the sky.
Several squirrels are jumping on the branches.
Round eyes looked timidly.
I have to tiptoe forward.
Afraid of impacting their happiness and peace.
Through the vast forest
There is a magical camellia oleifera in Lingtou.
The trees are full of white flowers and red fruits.
The fragrance drifted with the wind.
A brown-green bird is standing on the branch.
A melodious and moving singing voice
Maybe it's a celebration of great love or friendship.
Through the high forest
Over mountains and mountains.
Stand on the top of the mountain and look out.
I wish I could fly freely like a dove.
I wish I could float like a white cloud.
I can't help shouting at the distance.
Happy and relaxed, dreaming of returning to my hometown.
Poetry about the forest: I saw a forest coming with a poetry magazine in my hand.
Read a lot of poems
I saw a forest.
Come to me.
I tried to breathe oxygen.
But I often get lost
Can't tell the difference between east, west, north and south
The occasional birdsong.
Boil my heart
repeatedly
I see many flowers.
It is surrounded by fog.
I polish my eyes.
Looking for lost rhythm
Dance your passion
Maybe it's the little me.
And short-sighted
I only see a trunk.
What's on the branch?
All by one's own imagination
hope one day
Holding a poetry magazine
Read a lot of poems
Lush forest
Can't go any further.