Poetry 1 is about September: messy chrysanthemums in front of the window in September.
The moss dotted on the terrace gradually withered.
Through the silence of the night
I see tears in the eyes of the person I love.
I lost my chrysanthemum.
Green moss
Flow, flow, flow ...
Deep in the fallen forest
I buried some memories.
In the vast ocean
There are tears I abandoned.
In the arms of September
I wrote down some ideas.
Poetry 2 about September: September, September, through all the remaining temperatures in summer.
Carve a misty flower on the window sill, and leave something in my heart.
Let the memory pass at the tip of the pen.
Maybe I like this season too much,
I like to miss all the memories and pictures of this season.
Go the way I used to go,
Stepping on the leaves that are still attached to the tree.
Just like when I was a child, I walked slowly around those trees.
Like a movie scene, I hope it's an hour.
Just like when I was a child, I climbed onto the fork and sat down.
Only to find that we always want to cry, just for our past.
Still those scenes,
Still those stories,
But not the same people.
But I have to wander in such a story,
Use yourself to play others in such a story.
Put on other people's masks and walk in their shadows.
Unfortunately, September is just a season forgotten by others, but remembered by me.
I remember saying that I am a person living in the past.
. Only in the memory of the past, laughter and sadness,
Crying and breathing, walking and thinking.
Just as the soul-addicted teacher said the opposite,
I am an outdated person.
Waiting for an opportunity in the abandoned ruins.
I suddenly feel a little fake,
Just like you should work honestly.
I think I like someone restlessly, as long as I pay silently.
Bury all her feelings in her heart and she will feel them.
However, I am not him after all, and I don't have such a happy ending.
Not a filmmaker, he can make all the stories sad or sad at will.
Still happy and happy.
In the days of my hometown, I saw the wheat fields that I miss very much.
Look at the green wheat seedlings and the empty wheat seedlings.
Only then did I know that the scarecrow was no longer needed at this time.
However, I am just a nostalgic person.
He stabbed a poor little scarecrow himself.
In the same sad wheat field.
Fulfill the last wish of all scarecrows,
Guarding your own wheat field.
September is the beginning and the end.
In September, memories began to decorate some people's stories with fallen leaves.
Under those blue skies that are a bit excessive.
Deduct a faint sad but happy song.
In this season, the same lingering raindrops are lingering, squandering the known plot.
The lit fireworks will leave black ashes after they are brilliant.
Just like after happiness,
All that remains is pain and sadness.
Insects that have begun to wither in the roadside grass,
Still singing some monotonous songs.
I miss the last beauty, but I didn't find its loneliness.
Knocking on the dim moon shadow.
The wind blowing from the lake,
With a hint of coolness, people wake up the fragments of memory.
In September,
It turned out to be just a farewell song that lives in the distance of memory.
It's like raindrops hitting everyone's heart.
Poetry about September 3rd: September is an autumn. September is an autumn.
The most beautiful scenery in September.
Beautiful scenery of mountains and rivers in September
Looking back at the scenery in September
September is autumn.
September is the thickest color.
The golden beauty of the fields in September
September is the season of autumn harvest.
September is autumn.
September is the most affectionate.
The delightful beauty of September.
Farmers in September are the most romantic.
September is autumn.
September songs are full of autumn.
Agricultural machinery is booming in September.
Farmers are very busy in September.
Poetry about September 4th: September.
September
The season in September
Ripe apples
Honglie pomegranate
The season in September
Xiangyun cotton blooms in the field.
The field smells of rice.
The season in September
Farmers are in the fields.
Sweat (because of fear or physical exertion)
Happy harvest
Da Chun entered the warehouse.
Koharu sows.
Leave hope for the coming year
The season in September
Admission in autumn
Say goodbye to ten years of cold window
Meet the most mellow moment.
Don't drink a few glasses of Gu Feng wine.
The grain is in my heart.
I can't forget Yu Xiang.
because
I need it tomorrow.
Put on clothes made of loving mother.
Leave home
Wave a hand
Homesickness can't hide.
Wear an amulet
With youth