Ask for an essay "Morning"

You are a drop of rain in the morning, a fertile and barren heart. I am Lou Shuguang, the morning light, through the porthole, your delicate eyes and shy cheeks. I bow my head and stroke your lips. My flowing hair is like a bunch of affectionate black algae, gentle and charming. The innocent girl snuggled up to my chest and heard your strong heartbeat. The last fragrance floated in the hair, and the last deep kiss melted in the fragrance. Your delicate touch felt my unique body temperature, "I have loved you for a long time." You shook your head gently. "No, dear, we will live forever! Because of you, I am no longer lonely. " Qingxi sends incense and condensation, and carries rain and dew. Clouds are dancing in the clear sky, and the sky is quiet and blue with a touch of tenderness.

Qinglian plums lie soft in the heart rain, and the heart rain picks up the lotus. Huaxi is full of drunkenness, and the mist is a curtain that lingers. Although there is no jade, no singing and dancing, the peace and tranquility that * * * has is not only a pure and beautiful state of mind, but also an enviable charm.

There are too many ups and downs engraved on the rings of life, and those lotus-like thoughts are slowly unfolding in your heart lake. Your tenderness is the water town in my dream. Time flies like a white horse, and we have known each other for nearly two years in a blink of an eye. The freshness and joy between your lines always touch similar strings intentionally or unintentionally, and you feel like you are in the same world.

Or maybe you and I both stepped on the edge of love in previous lives, clinging to that unique deformity. The helplessness, disappointment and deep loneliness that often come to mind about life, although they are different experiences, feel the same heartache. But you know what? Every time I see the barren land in those poor mountainous areas. The left-behind children and Mo Ran's vacant and empty eyes feel lucky from the bottom of their hearts. On the other hand, maybe suffering is also a gift of life. Let's shape ourselves into the most beautiful scenery on the world of mortals. Legend has it that if the beautiful guardian angel watches all his life, he will be happy forever. Then, baby, let's be each other's guardian angels and be happy forever.

Bridges, flowing water, green hills, wooden houses ... when you work, you knit clothes and I farm. In my spare time, I listen to the rain on the violin, the flute is accompanied by rhyme, and the spotless sound permeates the faint valley. At that moment, you and I didn't need eye contact. God and tacit understanding are integrated, moved and warm, and the soul gradually calms down. Relying on the harbor of happiness, we enjoy the ebb and flow of the tide, through the wind and rain, suffering and * * *. At sunrise and sunset, you and I make an unchangeable vow: hold your hand and grow old with your son.