Articles about geese, prose poems

Autumn sunshine warms the world brilliantly, and flowers make chrysanthemums fresh. Wild geese fly south for another year, with bumpy roads and hard years. There are many articles about geese, but what about prose poems about geese? The following are the essays and poems about geese that I have compiled for you for your reference!

Wild Goose Essay 1: Wild Goose in the Sky

a frog living at the bottom of a well-depicting a man of ignorance

Little sister likes it best.

paper cutout for window decoration

Window grilles are just

once

I want to talk to my brother.

Become a family

My brother

Wild geese in the sky

a frog living at the bottom of a well-depicting a man of ignorance

Crops on the ridge

Flowers on the slope

No, oh, my God.

Where is the land?

No brothers

Where is home?

My brother

No days are coming.

Where is the land?

No brothers

Where is home?

(Not myself)

Wild goose essay 2: wild goose

Poetry/Madeleine

Feel gratified in the autumn harvest days.

Watch the blue sky geese fly south.

It is very warm in winter.

It's a place where creatures fantasize about night dreams.

I was so stupid that I slept in a hotbed of harvest.

The geese are smart and fly freely in the north and south.

Enjoy the beautiful scenery along the way.

Sing loudly when you are happy.

I smoke by the fire.

Let the liver and lungs suffer

I'm waiting for the next autumn.

Must fly to the south with the geese.

The mountains and rivers in my hometown are full of happiness.

Look at the better world outside.

2065438+March 2006

Wild Goose Essay 3: Wild Goose Flying South

Author: Mu Yisheng

The geese fly south, and the sound is sad.

Mourning and worrying;

The whole family was expelled,

I can't go home.

There is frost next to it,

After that, the north wind chased;

Qianshan goes to Wan Li Road,

I dare not say that I am tired.

Wild geese fly south, tired,

Full of blood and tears;

All the roads in the south of the Yangtze River are beautiful.

Does not belong to my generation.

Natural enemies in the air,

Bandits on the ground;

I don't know if spring will come back to my hometown.

Without us. Who is it?