Lyric Prose (1) After dinner, I made a cup of chrysanthemum tea and held it in my palm, which suddenly warmed my ten stiff and sore fingers. I moved my knuckles and gave a click.
I leaned back my sore neck, but inadvertently caught a glimpse of a ray of long-lost sunshine. It fell in through the window, and it seems that I can't help but want to hug.
I picked up a pine chair and followed the sun to the balcony. The sunshine touched my fingertips, and a warm current immediately opened my blood and dispelled the winter and cold.
I sat down, took a deep breath and quietly enjoyed the rare sunshine in the afternoon. There are tiny dust particles in the air, and sunlight hits them and is reflected back. A little white light flashed in the air, gentle and dazzling, like stars in the sky, flowing and flickering in the air. I tried to reach out and grab it, but every time I reached out, they were like one.
I opened the window a little, some cold air came in, and the dust pushed the golden light and suddenly disappeared.
I seem to be inspired by a magical power and somehow recall the past. ...
I remember many years ago, my grandfather rode my bike and walked on the long beach of Luohe. Think of Huimian Noodles made by my favorite grandmother when I was a child; I remember running in my father's army and getting into trouble; I remember my friends' sincere smiles ...
Pieces of beautiful memories, like tiny dust floating in the air, sparkle and can't be held. However, there is such a memory, which deserves my deep treasure. How can it not be beautiful to think of it?
Fate is just a word that people cherish all their lives. How many times in my last life, I looked back, brushed my shoulders, was blown by the wind, and was beaten by the rain, in exchange for long-term companionship in this life.
The fragrance of chrysanthemum tea fills the air, the ginkgo leaves outside the window are still graceful and graceful, lightly placed in the breeze, and the long-hidden wild cats also miraculously appear, lazily lying on the wall in the sun.
I raised my guitar and gently plucked the strings. The afternoon sun warmed the piano. Perhaps, memory is also a gesture of life. With a little memory, it becomes so warm.
I came to a piece of sunshine, sprinkled on the strings. With the sliding of my fingertips, the gentle wind, dust and sunshine are finely ground with the sound of the piano, emitting a gentle and indifferent fragrance. ...
Lyric Prose (2) Although the first impression of summer is hot, the evening in summer is like a famous painting with cool colors, which has a unique flavor.
After dinner, the trees outside the window rustled. It must be windy. I decided to take a walk in the newly renovated old street.
I walked through a deep alley and came to the old street with the sound of birds singing. Probably because everyone is afraid of the heat, the streets are usually very lively, and there are very few people today! In fact, windy nights are very comfortable. A row of suntanned trees by the river can finally have a rest. They spread their leaves curled by the sun and bathed in the breeze.
The blazing sun has become less dazzling, but it radiates mild light and renders the surrounding clouds. Maybe this is the unique flame cloud in summer! The biggest piece is red, which is deep and shallow: scarlet, crimson, fiery red and light red. The surrounding clouds are orange or yellow, and the sky grasps the color just right: deeper, it will not be so charming; A little lighter, it won't be so bright.
A carefree person like me is probably a neighbor of the old street. Some have gray hair, some are on crutches, and they have been friends for many years. They sat by the river, shaking their cattail leaf fans. It seems to me that they have forgotten the heat. I think they have eliminated the noise. I found the peace of returning to nature from the old street in the evening.
Not only people are laid-back, but also fish at the bottom of the water. They may want to take advantage of the cool air at night! So I knocked on the door of the old street squire's house, borrowed a net and a bucket, and prepared to show my talents! These fish are lazy and slowly sway in the water, as if they are really afraid of the heat. I crouched down, lowered my head and quietly approached them. When I got close enough, I picked up the net and dived into the water. For an instant, I was like a monkey fishing for the moon, and a group of fish were caught in my net. I put them in the bucket, and they shook their fins and swam happily. I took an aquatic plant and put it on the water. When it shakes, the fish may think it is a bug, so they all gather around. I stretched and shrunk the grass, but the fish looked delicious but couldn't eat it, which made me laugh. Suddenly, a fish jumped out of the bucket. It jumped to the ground, covered in mud and still jumping! After a while, with a clear sound of falling into the water, the brave fish was free. I seem to understand something, and then return the empty bucket and net to Taigong.
The fiery red clouds gradually faded away, and the gray-black night came. The decorative lights on the old streets are also on, and the old streets in summer are also beautiful and charming at night. I ended my short and happy trip to the old street in the moonlight.
With the crisp cicada singing, I went home along the alley, taking home the old street in my heart.
Lyric Prose (3) In the hot summer, the sun is scorching the earth, and the temperature as high as 40℃ makes the earth filled with smoke. This is a huge contrast with the temperature of air-conditioned rooms, like one at the equator and one at the North Pole. However, I am still sweating in the air-conditioned room, and my palms are all sweaty. I looked helplessly at the piano score and thought of the piano competition in a month. My heart is full of helplessness and I feel very helpless.
The dense tadpoles swam all over eight pages, which made people dizzy and upset. There is still one page to practice, and the emotion of the song has not achieved the expected effect. Just one month is not enough. What are we going to do? What are we going to do? I'm as anxious as ants in my pants. I don't know what to do. The eight-page piano score weighs me down like a mountain. I can't settle down to practice this piece of music. A huge difficulty bothers me, but I can't break it down. At the moment, I am in a hurry!
Looking at the piano score, I suddenly remembered an article in Grade One-"Take One Step, Take Another Step". The "I" in the article is afraid of cliffs because of phobia. His father taught him to step on the nearest stone first, so he overcame the difficulties step by step and walked down the cliff. Then I can't practice the music in sections and sections? Can't you practice like this?
Perhaps, because I turned a big difficulty into a small one, my progress has been greatly improved. Finally, a week before the game, I successfully disintegrated this mountain. My excitement is beyond words, because only I know how I overcome my inner fears, how to face so many difficult roads, and how to overcome the difficulties I thought I could not overcome in these three weeks.
Finally, when it was time to go on stage, I told myself: one step, one step, one lever, one lever, I can finish this paragraph. After the competition, I received a notice from the organizing Committee. When I won the first prize, my heart was not only filled with joy and excitement, but also with an indescribable complex mood with tears in my eyes.
After the piano competition, I was reminded of a sentence: I reminded myself not to look at the rocks far below, but to pay attention to a relatively easy and small step, take a small step and then take a small step, so as to realize the sense of accomplishment of each step until I reach my goal. Looking back, I will be surprised and proud of my long journey.
Lyric Prose (4) Winter is a mirror of a cold night, revealing a trace of cold. In this season, the impression is always particularly deep.
If someone asks me what kind of season I like, I will not hesitate to answer: "winter."
I don't know why, I'm always curious about winter, and I always have special feelings for winter.
I don't understand my curiosity about winter, but I feel that I am inexplicably tied to it by the lifeline. It is like a magnet, and I am just a ball of light. As soon as it comes near, I will be held back by it. But when it passed by, I lost my life and could only be like a deflated ball. Maybe because I was born in winter, I should like winter. But I am always confused about it, and I will be touched inexplicably in winter.
In my opinion, winter is the peak of memory, and in winter, I will always be inexplicably pulled up by the rope to remember the gear. This fallacy of mine was confirmed by my friend. So in winter, I pay special attention to everything. In winter, my mood is always heavy, especially when the weather is bad, but occasionally I will be happy. In winter, sometimes I don't know.
In winter, I always feel dizzy. It may be a day of hibernation. But I don't want to give up my life. It is a waste to spend such a beautiful day in a deep sleep without feeling it, so I will not be reconciled. After all, there is only one winter in a year. But there is no good pastime in winter, because I always meditate. However, sometimes new discoveries are made in meditation.
If one season must be removed from the four seasons, I don't care which season disappears except winter. I don't like places where the seasons are like spring. Because it's too monotonous. In my feeling, spring, summer and autumn seem to be the same. God wants to decorate them in winter. Sometimes I wonder what to do without winter. Although if there is really no winter, the earth will still turn and people will still live, but it is really a little scary to think about it.
I like winter very much, but it always seems like a dream to me. Dreams start in autumn and wake up in spring. Late autumn unconsciously enters winter, and then unconsciously enters winter and spring. I always feel that winter passes quickly, but I try to remember, but there is nothing particularly happy.
Winter is such a season that I can't understand, a season that makes me have special feelings for it.
Lyric Prose (5) The breath of winter gradually diffuses, and the figure of autumn begins to be confused! Look, the branches are swaying outside the window; Listen, the sound of winter rain falling. ...
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Looking at the beacon smoke, the geese stayed in the sky and found many things, but there was no trace. The wisps of silk floating out of the window reminded me again. ...
It used to be a habit to blossom and fall, until I saw the flowers in the winter rain! That flower has been stationed in my heart since it opened and has never withered.
With a dull mood like water, I casually walked on the cobblestone-inlaid path and walked in the drizzle.
In the lingering plum blossoms, I watched the red plum falling with the wind and falling lightly on the soil. It can be said: scattered into mud, ground into dust, only the fragrance remains. The silk thread crossed the sky and fell on the pink petals, condensed into dazzling rain beads, and decorated slightly, making the petals more attractive, just like a beautiful woman who just came out of the bath, showing a faint smile.
Wandering between the fragrant snow and plum blossoms in Luogang, a little rain is lingering and lingering.
Suddenly, an unremarkable wild flower caught my eye and seemed out of place with the surrounding environment. In the lush grass, my head sticks out slightly, like a shy girl. I wonder how many vicissitudes it has experienced. The whole body is scarred, and the pedicel still has traces of being folded. Compared with the red plum on that branch, the petals are far apart, far away!
However, its posture is deeply branded in my heart. Even if it is not as good as the plum blossom above, it can still stand tenaciously in this light rain, and will not bow its head no matter the wind or rain! Just like Cinderella in the plant world, in people's eyes, it is not outstanding, but it does not show the meaning of giving up.
That kind of flower, I don't know its name. As light as air! But my heart is as heavy as a stone. At least I understand. Without paying, how do I know that others can't see me when they move? Just like that flower, it is not superior, even can't compare with the things around it, but it still insists on standing in the grass, and finally it succeeds. At least I saw its strength and its indomitable perseverance. It's not just me who may see it, but also more tourists who come here for sightseeing!
Looking at the rain still floating, staring at the smiling flowers in the rain, my heart vibrated!
It has always been ordinary, and it is not invisible! This rain, this flower I saw, has begun to be silent! Dreams without paying are always out of reach! Only with strong perseverance can we have the opportunity to show ourselves, and the opportunity is created by ourselves!
Flowers blooming in winter rain, thank you for your strength until I see you! Let me not be so ordinary today, you know I am actually very important!