In the bookstore on a rainy day, flowers are in full bloom in the rain curtain, and raindrops tap on the window. The books on the shelf exude the temptation of ink and water.
Rain washed away the dust in the city, giving the library a quiet layout, sitting quietly in the corner, feeling the power of words and dancing with the wind.
Bookstores breathe the breath of knowledge, and every book is inspired by the soul. From ancient times to modern times, from classics to fashion, every page contains the mystery of wisdom.
Here, time seems to have stopped. With the company of books, enjoy a moment of peace, forget the complicated world, forget the traces of troubles, and let your thoughts gallop freely in the chapter.
The air in the bookstore is filled with magical power, words and hearts blend into a poetic feast, raindrops beat on the windows, and the emotions printed on the paper turn into beautiful modern poems.
In the bookstore in the rain, I embraced poetry, wrote my life in words, and created my own poetry in this rain, which set my mind free in the bookstore.
Modern poetry describing rain
Mao Mao Rain in the Field
On that day, it was raining in Mao Mao, and you and I met in the field.
That year, I was walking on a small road in the country, and I just laughed when I met you.
Yesterday, there was no light rain, but I seemed to see the familiar figure.
Rain, today, the spring rain has finally come, light rain, showers, moderate rain, see a familiar figure in the rain, it is you! I got you!
Tingting, you let me see the beautiful scenery in the rain, and you let me laugh with you. At the same time, I want to thank the light rain in the field for letting me meet you!
The rain is like that again.
It's that kind of rain again, a little green and a little subtle. A little floating, with the simple tranquility of a girl.
It was that rain again, a little thin and a little weak. Can't stop swinging, with a girl's ignorant fear.
She can't stand still, and she is falling. Where the wind goes, she goes.
She is like a newly-married daughter, unable to conceal her nostalgia, and misses her mother who brewed her.
She is like a flower after flower, a bone after bone, and can't help longing for the fragrance and flawless color.
Finally, she kissed the earth with her life, and the earth was still so quiet.