2. Write modern poems about missing your mother. I miss my mother in rainy days.
Mother, you are the river in the south.
Driving through fertile land,
Grow fish, rice and plants called red beans.
You've suffered a lot,
Instead, let the children greedily suck your sweet milk.
Now, they are all married.
Have the ability to brew happiness by yourself.
You still want to turn 1000 times a day.
I also want to see them.
Prepare some delicious food for grandchildren and tell some old stories.
On this rainy day
Mom, I know you can't sit still.
All you can think about is their house, their son and their crops.
I am in the far north.
It's harder for you to fall asleep at night.
Out of your kindness.
I will always be a tree with weak branches.
I am afraid that the rain in the north will spoil the fertile soil for grafting me.
Can't support the green of a tree.
Mother, you are the river in the south.
Clear and boundless tenderness
Melt in my red blood
Maybe, I will become a singer from a different place.
In singing, people can hear the melody of water.
Maybe fate made me fail a thousand times.
The taste, pain and loneliness of a thousand and one failures.
Mom, I will think of your humiliating image.
As strong as poplar, never give in.
Mom, on a rainy day.
I stand under the northern sky.
Like a silent tree
Towards home.
I miss you all the time.
The more wonderful the modern poems about mother, the better. Poems written to mother need no flowery words, just be sincere. ■ Poet for Mother: Bing Xin's mother, I have long wanted to write a poem for you, but I haven't written my mother well after many times. This poem for you, I don't know how to start, how to end, or what to write, just like when I was a child, I didn't know whether to accept it bravely or choose to escape from my mother. I thought of you again tonight, and I decided to write a poem for you. Even if it is not well written, even if you are far from home, you will never read it ... Mom, if you see a white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason.
This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wan Shui Qian Shan, ask him to take her love and sorrow home. ■ Mother Author: Shu Ting, your pale fingertips are touching my temple. I can't help holding on to your skirt like when I was a child. My mother tried to keep your faded figure. Although the morning light has cut my dream into smoke, I still dare not open my eyes for a long time. I still cherish that bright red scarf, for fear that washing it will make it lose your unique warmth. My mother's years are as ruthless as the running water, fearing that my memory will fade. How dare I open its screen easily? I cried to you for a thorn. Now I wear a watch and dare not moan. Mom, I often look up at your photos sadly. Even if I call for penetrating 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, the sea and the dawn, my sweet and soft memory, mother, is not a torrent, not a waterfall, but a dry well that can't be sung among flowers and trees ■ Mother Author: A loving mother is humble as moss, solemn as dawn, soft as the voice of the south of the Yangtze River, and hard as a thousand years' cold jade. When I lift my eyes, she is a bright moon. When I looked down, she was a vast land.
■ Mother's Poem (1) Your greatness condenses my flesh and blood, and your greatness shapes my soul. Your life is a journey of love. You weave a calendar with beautiful rings that smell of ink. I spend every year in your love, playing on your shoulders and knees. (2) You are a big tree. You dream of prosperity in summer and maturity in autumn. Winter depends on you to meditate on your height and width. You gave me life, mother. When I am sad, you are my comfort. When I am depressed, you are my hope. When I am weak, you are my strength to shelter me from the wind and rain in your little harbor. You have broadened my horizons. You are my best friend forever. (4) With love and care, you bent over to protect you, exposing your bright heart, and your energetic smile strengthened your boiling blood. (5) Let me immerse myself in your joy, let me enjoy your warmth, let me revel in your arms, and let me snuggle in your arms. (6) There are faint poems in the idle clouds, and there are deep feelings in the deep feelings. If my mother is rain, then I am the rainbow after the rain. If my mother is the moon, then I am the star holding the moon. My mother is the root of my growth. If I grow up, my mother's black hair is like frost on a maple leaf, but the stars are shining silver. I deeply kissed the traces of those years. "Give me a heart for you." May the sweet fragrance haunt your life, and may my silvery laughter fill your brow. May all my blessings rub into your heart. A green leaf is full of its friendship with the root. An ode condensed my love for you. I can't bear to take it lightly when sewing again, and there are old thread marks of loving mothers on it.
■ Mom Zhong Author: Wang When you are disappointed, no matter how tall you are, your mother's mind can still surround you. I am willing to be your "master clock" and I will not stop working until the clock breaks down.
■ Mother's Bible Author: Every time I open this Bible, Wang Can can't help holding it to her chest, just like hugging my dear mother. I can still smell her faint fragrance and see her beautiful and elegant face. ■ Learn to be a good mother Author: Wang "The hand that pushes the cradle is the hand that changes the society", and "mother" is the privilege given to women by God. A mother's sacrifice for her children is priceless, and her contribution is unconditional.
■ "Mom" Author: Hong Yan When I met you, I was ten years old/you were thirty-five. You are a round-faced mother/your love is a basin full of bath water/warm, which almost floats me.
■ Mother Author: Gao Mingcheng The earth keeps spinning. When I was a child, I accidentally fell in a pool of blood in a ditch. You suddenly picked me up from the hands of the earth. It is your omnipotent Hercules! A thousand raindrops slipped from the umbrella and poured into your back, but I didn't touch the rain. The hospital is actually the end of the marathon and your brave ambulance! Starry mornings are constantly being born and dying. I also know that it has the regret of aging and parting. It must have been deeply rooted in my heart since farewell. Endless spring, warm sky and endless horizon are your avatar Guanyin Bodhisattva! ■ Author: Xu Yilan Modern parents accept their children's advantages and disadvantages with respect and understanding, encourage rather than blame, praise rather than complain, give their children full spiritual food, and instill the idea that new books are better than new clothes. ■ Author: Zhang Mo Love is a small ribbon, which mother gently ties with wrinkles.
■ Author: Li Qiaoren comes from the earth, and naturally he will feel homesick and return to nature, and his mother is the embodiment of the earth. ■ Source: Bing Xin's mother of stars! The wind and rain came, and the birds hid in the nest; The storm in my heart is coming, so I can only hide in your arms.
■ Source: Bing Xin's "Past Seven" mother! You are a lotus leaf, and I am a red lotus. The raindrops in my heart are coming. Except you, who is my shadow under the empty sky? ■ Ode to Mother Author: Although Zheng's mother is still poor, the children's love for her is unambiguous. We just shout "Long live mother". Deeper love gushes in our hearts like a volcano. Although the mother is ordinary and useless, she is the real hero in the child's heart. Who can live and how much? Children can keep their mother's kindness in mind. Although her mother speaks softly, she is heavier than Mount Tai in their hearts. She didn't achieve much, but she watered her children's success with her mother (excerpt) ■ Ordinary life Author: Du Jing.
4. Seek modern poems or lyrics about missing one's dead mother, not as lonely as the dusty night platform.
Lost step, cold rain rest, buried flowers.
Three days before Ding Si's Double Ninth Festival, the woman who died in the dream was dressed in plain clothes, holding her hand and sobbing. Many words have been forgotten.
The old spring will be brewed in Ji Minruo's grave.
Lying in an empty bed listening to the rain from the south window, who will mend the clothes at night!
Afraid of hurting my mother's feelings, I secretly flowed to the pillow.
Tears are silent, only regret to get rid of fickle feelings, and rely on the painter to keep knowledge.
The road near the south of the city is afraid to walk, and Shenjiayuan is the most injured.
The dream is broken and fragrant for forty years, but the willow in Shenyuan doesn't blow cotton.
Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo.
Even if you can bury it, you can't tell a passion. What an illusory hope the fetters of the afterlife are.
A long time ago, we joked that one of us would die, but suddenly, before my eyes, you left.
I miss my parents' tears all night and will take them back in the morning.
10% off, no one will send it!
Nanfeiyan is on the cloudy moon, turning back here, just this month. Birds don't enter, but I don't travel far to Lingnan. I don't know when, when can I return home? The tide receded, the river rippled quietly, the forest was dark and malaria was scattered. Tomorrow I will climb to the top of the mountain and look north at my hometown, or I can see the red berries on the top of the mountain.
I want to hang a sword in front of the grave and listen to the piano on my knee.
Holding hands and looking at each other, tears swirled in my eyes until there were no words at last, and a thousand words stuck in my throat and I couldn't say it. Thinking about thinking, thousands of miles of smoke, dusk, chutiankuo.
The child held hands and asked, why don't you come back? * * * Who is fighting for time to win sideburns?
There are crows in Bai Shu and osmanthus in Coody Leng in the atrium. I don't know who Qiu Si will meet tonight.
5. A modern poem describing mother, mother, the wind and rain in the sky are coming, the birds are hiding in the nest, and the wind and rain in my heart are coming. I only hide in your arms-Bing Xin's mother! You are a lotus leaf, I am a red lotus, and the rain in my heart is coming. Except you, who is the shade under my unobstructed sky? -Bing Xin's Poem to Mother Author: Bing Xin's mother, I have been trying to write a poem for you for a long time, but I have written it many times without writing it well. I don't know how to start, how to end or how to write this poem for you, just like when I was a child, I didn't know whether to accept it bravely or choose to avoid my mother. I thought of you again tonight, and I decided to write a poem for you. Even if it is not well written, even if you are far from home, you will never read it. ...
This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wan Shui Qian Shan, ask him to take her love and sorrow home. ■ Mother Author: Shu Ting, your pale fingertips are touching my temple. I can't help holding on to your skirt like when I was a child. My mother tried to keep your faded figure. Although the morning light has cut my dream into smoke, I still dare not open my eyes for a long time. I still cherish that bright red scarf, for fear that washing it will make it lose your unique warmth. My mother's years are as ruthless as the running water, fearing that my memory will fade. How dare I open its screen easily? I cried to you for a thorn. Now I wear a watch and dare not moan. Mom, I often look up at your photos sadly. Even if I call for penetrating 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, the sea and the dawn, my sweet and soft memory, mother, is not a torrent, not a waterfall, but a dry well that can't be sung among flowers and trees ■ Mother Author: A loving mother is humble as moss, solemn as dawn, soft as the voice of the south of the Yangtze River, and hard as a thousand years' cold jade. When I lift my eyes, she is a bright moon. When I looked down, she was a vast land.
■ Mother's Poem (1) Your greatness condenses my flesh and blood, and your greatness shapes my soul. Your life is a journey of love. You weave a calendar with beautiful rings that smell of ink. I spend every year in your love, playing on your shoulders and knees. (2) You are a big tree. You dream of prosperity in summer and maturity in autumn. Winter depends on you to meditate on your height and width. You gave me life, mother. When I am sad, you are my comfort. When I am depressed, you are my hope. When I am weak, you are my strength to shelter me from the wind and rain in your little harbor. You have broadened my horizons. You are my best friend forever. (4) With love and care, you bent over to protect you, exposing your bright heart, and your energetic smile strengthened your boiling blood. (5) Let me immerse myself in your joy, let me enjoy your warmth, let me revel in your arms, and let me snuggle in your arms. (6) There are faint poems in the idle clouds, and there are deep feelings in the deep feelings. If my mother is rain, then I am the rainbow after the rain. If my mother is the moon, then I am the star holding the moon. My mother is the root of my growth. If I grow up, my mother's black hair is like frost on a maple leaf, but the stars are shining silver. I deeply kissed the traces of those years. "Give me a heart for you." May the sweet fragrance haunt your life, and may my silvery laughter fill your brow. May all my blessings rub into your heart. A green leaf is full of its friendship with the root. An ode condensed my love for you. I can't bear to take it lightly when sewing again, and there are old thread marks of loving mothers on it.
■ Mom Zhong Author: Wang When you are disappointed, no matter how tall you are, your mother's mind can still surround you. I am willing to be your "master clock" and I will not stop working until the clock breaks down.
■ Mother's Bible Author: Every time I open this Bible, Wang Can can't help holding it to her chest, just like hugging my dear mother. I can still smell her faint fragrance and see her beautiful and elegant face. ■ Learn to be a good mother Author: Wang "The hand that pushes the cradle is the hand that changes the society", and "mother" is the privilege given to women by God. A mother's sacrifice for her children is priceless, and her contribution is unconditional.
■ "Mom" Author: Hong Yan When I met you, I was ten years old/you were thirty-five. You are a round-faced mother/your love is a basin full of bath water/warm, which almost floats me.
■ Mother Author: Gao Mingcheng The earth keeps spinning. When I was a child, I accidentally fell in a pool of blood in a ditch. You suddenly picked me up from the hands of the earth. It is your omnipotent Hercules! A thousand raindrops slipped from the umbrella and poured into your back, but I didn't touch the rain. The hospital is actually the end of the marathon and your brave ambulance! Starry mornings are constantly being born and dying. I also know that it has the regret of aging and parting. It must have been deeply rooted in my heart since farewell. Endless spring, warm sky and endless horizon are your avatar Guanyin Bodhisattva! ■ Author: Xu Yilan Modern parents accept their children's advantages and disadvantages with respect and understanding, encourage rather than blame, praise rather than complain, give their children full spiritual food, and instill the idea that new books are better than new clothes. ■ Author: Zhang Mo Love is a small ribbon, which mother gently ties with wrinkles.
■ Author: Li Qiaoren comes from the earth, and naturally he will feel homesick and return to nature, and his mother is the embodiment of the earth. ■ Source: Bing Xin's mother of stars! The wind and rain came, and the birds hid in the nest; The storm in my heart is coming, so I can only hide in your arms.
■ Source: Bing Xin's "Past Seven" mother! You are a lotus leaf, and I am a red lotus. The raindrops in my heart are coming. Except you, who is my shadow under the empty sky? ■ Ode to Mother Author: Although Zheng's mother is still poor, the children's love for her is unambiguous. We just shout "Long live mother". Deeper love gushes in our hearts like a volcano. Although the mother is ordinary and useless, she is the real hero in the child's heart. Who can live and how much? Children can take their mothers with them.
6. Modern poems in memory of the late mother 1, poems written for mother.
Modern Times: Bing Xin
Mom, for a long time,
I just want to write a poem for you,
But I wrote it many times,
Still didn't write it.
Mom, I wrote this poem for you.
I don't know how to start,
I don't know how to end it,
I don't know what to write.
It's like slapping you hard when you were a child.
I don't know if I should accept it bravely,
Or should I choose to escape?
Mom, I thought of you again tonight.
I decided to write a poem for you.
Even if it is not well written,
Even if you are far from home,
Never read ...
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason,
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.
2, paper boat-send mother
Modern Times: Bing Xin
I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper,
Save it forever.-Save 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.
I still fold every day and never give up.
I always hope that a place can only flow where I want it to go.
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wanshui Qian Shan, please let it go home with her love and sorrow!
Extended data:
The creative background of "Paper Boat-Dedicated to Mother";
1923 In early summer, Bing Xin graduated from yenching university. In August 17 of the same year, she went to study in the United States by mail ship Yorkshire from Shanghai. Arrived in Kobe, Japan on August 19, and visited Yokohama on August 2 1. Judging from the writing time, this poem was written by the poet on a seagoing ship that continued to sail to the other side of the ocean on the sixth day after his visit to Yokohama.
This poem is written in the tone of a childlike child, and the overall tone is cheerful. Through the childlike action of "folding paper boats", the paper boats are endowed with special significance, and the author's love and yearning for his mother are pinned, thus expressing his deep attachment to his mother and motherland.
Sogou encyclopedia-paper boat-send it to mom
7. Praise and miss mother's poems. God can't be everywhere, so he created mother. (Jewish proverb) A mother's heart is an abyss in which you will be forgiven forever. (Balzac) The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. (Anonymous) In the process of studying hard, my mother always shared my ambition and fully understood me. Help me as much as she can. If I have done anything worthy of attention in my life, it must be because I inherited her temperament. (Booker Washington) To me, my mother seems to be the greatest woman I know ... I have met too many people in the world, but I have never seen a woman as elegant as my mother. If I have achieved anything, I owe it to her. (Charlie Chaplin). But I think she enjoyed it. (Mark Twain) All the glory and pride in the world comes from her mother. (Gorky) A loving mother's arm is made of love. How can a child not be sweet when sleeping in it? (Hugo).
8. Modern prose poems written for my mother.
Author: Bing Xin
Mom, it's 323131335323635438+03431303231363533e3e78988e69d8331333234326338.
I just want to write a poem for you.
But I wrote it many times.
I haven't written it yet
Mom, I wrote this poem for you.
I don't know how to start.
I don't know how to end it.
I don't know what to write.
It's like slapping you hard when you were a child.
I don't know whether to accept it bravely.
Or should I choose to escape?
Mom, I thought of you again tonight.
I decided to write a poem for you.
Even if it's not well written
Even if you are far from home.
Never read ...
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.
■ Mother
Author: Shu Ting
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.
9. Songs dedicated to mothers by modern mother poems
Stepping on the breath of spring
This beautiful day
Fuck you and fuck me.
My heart is as warm as the sea.
I really want to sing a carol for you.
I am neither a singer nor a poet.
I can't write a melody or sing a poem.
I lack flash inspiration and genius thinking.
I am ashamed that the deepest love can't be explained by a trickle.
But today,
I want to present a heart song for you.
May my song become a needle and thread.
Sew up the split wound for you.
May my songs turn into raindrops.
Moisten throat and quench thirst.
May my songs turn into clouds.
Bring fragrance to your life.
My original song turned into a cloud.
Refracting the luster of the sun for you
it's you
Gave me a beating pulse.
it's you
Gave me the joy of my childhood.
it's you
Teach me to take my time in adversity
2. Mother
Years climb on your forehead,
Time flies on my shoulders,
In the morning light, you smile,
There are still many vicissitudes,
Hold up my soft wings.
That sweet and delicious meal,
A warm and soft sweater;
Tireless teaching;
The complex of life is closely connected with me,
After being dissolved in the blood,
In the bone marrow,
In my heart,
Your love touched me.
I finally know that there is one thing in this world,
Richer than the water in the Yangtze River,
More thrilling than the Yellow River;
Tougher and evergreen than the green of pine and cypress;
That's your love,
Your deep love,
Selfless love,
My mother.
Step 3: Hands
I don't understand everything you gave me.
You polish my eyes.
So the world opened before my eyes.
I started walking up and down this strange street.
But you can always see a pair of big hands protecting and guiding.
I am chasing these big hands and stroking their vicissitudes covered by history.
However, I can't help sighing about the lost time.
It's these eager eyes.
You never stop, you must keep going.
I don't know what the destination is.
Your soul has left your body.
Does the soul not feel tired?
The world will eventually be gathered by eyes.
The street you walk on will no longer be strange.
Looking at those beautiful big hands, my eyes blurred.