Beautiful prose about missing: missing the moonless night, the stars shining alone, the faint night sky, deep and quiet; Without you at night, loneliness is with me, and something called missing is always with me.
Missing is a song, a sad song. When I am not around, I will always sing quietly and meditate; Its melody is unique and unique, and no one is similar to it; In the early morning, that wisp of wind and fog lingered together for a long time, like a touch of emotion in my heart. After a night of thinking and speculation, it was still so strong. That desire even wants to be sent to the wind. Maybe only wind energy can cross the fence and convey that dream. In my dream, I miss flowers. They bloom in every familiar corner. Only the one in my heart can't see them Maybe, maybe I can hear the sound of flowers. Just like when I miss you, you miss me.
That kind of heartfelt induction is always so wonderful. But wind, why don't you understand my mood? That kind of care and mourning has evolved into a sad song in my heart, which is sung repeatedly when I miss you. As the sun sets, that touch of sunset glow, like blood, reflects half the sky, but leaves a shadow in the distant eyes, that is loneliness, that is cold and cheerless, that is expectation; Waiting for the moon to rise, maybe it can send love to the lovesick. This expectation and loneliness silently formed a sad song in my heart. A person stood on the ferry where hundreds of plants were growing wildly, and sang to the night sky countless times, hoping that the fairy Chang 'e would be moved.
The song of missing comes from feelings, from the singing of hearts, and from the blending of feelings. The song of missing, although melancholy, will be sung with tears, although it will make people sad, but it is also a different style, which only people who love each other can understand.
Missing is a poem, a sad poem. In the dead of night, when the south wind blows flowers, when it rains all night, when fallen leaves beat against the window lattice, when snowflakes fall, when azaleas are red?
Do you know that people who miss you in the distance toss and turn every night, and it is difficult to sleep? Do you know that your beloved one is waiting at the intersection where you leave every day? Do you know who writes lines of poetry with heart and emotion under the lamp? Above the wall of missing, whose mood is that? Who is the man who frowns but walks away? Who is suffering unspeakable pain alone for that love?
Such a poem must be full of affection between the lines, perhaps in the eyes of others, it is not so beautiful. Have you ever understood the mark wet by the tears of missing? Unforgettable spring breeze sent away the cold winter, and the green light floated on the budding branches, which was the hope of love; In the days when flowers bloom, every touch of color is a kind of mood, maybe you will wait for me in the flowers; I will never forget the rosy flowers of that tree. For example, when I first met you, the warmth hidden in your eyes was warmth and love. I will never forget you. I can't forget the scene where the rain hits the petals. It is not the rain that scatters the petals, but the tears of missing are surging.
Sometimes, you are a warm spring breeze. When I just want to feel one color, you gave me a colorful life. Sometimes, you give me infinite care and love. You are like a shade in summer, shielding me from the scorching sun and bringing coolness. Sometimes, you give me unlimited interest and happiness. You are like a snowflake in winter, playing in the wild with me, and laughter echoing in the sky?
When I think of you, my heart will be sweet, warm and sour, and there will be a dull pain. I really want to sing me to you, including my mood, my thoughts and everything. That's a poem in my heart, dear. Will you listen to it?
Missing is an unspeakable pain. How can I describe that lonely mood? Ask the fallen leaves, the stars, the raindrops, the breeze, you and me, who can tell? Miss a person's taste, sometimes like drinking a cup of cold water, sometimes like sipping a cup of bitter coffee, accompanied by bitter tears, lonely lights, love songs, endless cold? That loneliness, that stinging pain, who can I listen to?
Memories are confused, not melancholy. It is painful to pick them up, and it is also painful to put them down. What do you think? Like a lonely goose lost in the dark, like a butterfly full of vicissitudes, there is no hope in the desert; In the silent night, you are alone, like a frightened wolf, hiding in front of the long night, and who can understand the desperate cry?
How eager, with a pair of concerned eyes; Over and over again, the clenched hand just wants to keep good memories, even if there is a gap between the fingertips, I don't want them to slip away. The dripping tears reflect your figure, and there is everything I want to say to you in the glass full of wine. Looking at the clouds floating in the sky, I really want it to bring my blessing to you far away. Have you heard from me in the wind? That kind of feeling only you understand, only I understand, only those who have loved understand.
Missing is like old wine, that ray of agarwood is hidden in the deepest part of my heart for a long time. When I miss you every day, I will silently pray for you. If you are well, it will be sunny. Missing is like a gurgling spring, with a long stream of fine water, lasting forever; Missing is like that evergreen tree. Every shiny leaf has my heart and your expectation.
The days of missing are like this, both sad and beautiful, both painful and unforgettable, both confused and yearning, both sour and sweet. Perhaps this bitter and painful day will let us know how to cherish and think, and will let us never forget on the road of life. Love lasts longer than missing.
Beautiful prose about missing: Missing is a beautiful loneliness.
Loneliness is especially beautiful only when I miss you.
Missing is a happy sadness, a sweet melancholy and a warm pain. Missing is a long-term obsession with yesterday and a longing for a better future.
It is in endless thoughts that people's feelings have been purified and sublimated.
Without distance, there is no missing. When the whistle of the ship rings, when the whistle of the train rings, when the wheels of the car start to turn, when the plane rushes off the runway and takes off, the yearning begins.
It is because of missing that I have the joy of reunion after a long separation; Only with unexpected surprises can we raise our glasses and drink when we get together.
Missing tortures and exercises people, which creates a calm character and deep feelings.
Missing others is a kind of warmth, and being missed by others is a kind of happiness. Of course, what is the good premise? Miss each other.
Because of missing, the moon was injected with strong and melancholy emotions by human beings.
When the moon bends, so does my mind; When the moon is round, so is my mind. No matter whether the moon is curved or round, my thoughts are a beautiful poem.
Miss can make you cry, miss can also make you smile, but whether you miss with tears or smile, when you miss, you will have no distractions.
Indeed, missing is also a kind of innocence.
Miss in the long moon, miss in the dusk, miss in the autumn rain. Beautiful scenery, but also set off that some sad but more beautiful thoughts.
With endless yearning, it is doomed to be a long wait, but in any case, missing is a huge spiritual wealth. Years may drift away like fallen leaves, but this wealth will last forever. On your long journey of life, it will always accompany you and give you endless warmth and inexhaustible strength.
? I hope people will live for a long time and have a good scenery thousands of miles away. ?
Beautiful prose about missing: I miss you, but I can't get out of your sight.
In the past, the little sunflowers on the hillside were still so vibrant, and my naughty figure when I was a child still surfaced in your memory.
Mother, countless years flow with endless attachment, intoxicating flower season, contains my endless thoughts. When I was a child, the flashing oil lamp was still so real, and the figure of you sewing clothes under the lamp often kept me awake all night.
Years have left a deep imprint on your forehead, and your sideburns are stained with silver. But the infatuated past will still come back to your mind. All the year round, your relatives are far away, but you are still doing farm work in that village in Shan Ye, humming songs to bless distant relatives.
Every night, in the voice of mothers calling their children, there must be a string you pluck. You don't have too much trouble, only too much farm work, waiting for you to sow and harvest. Over the years, you have cultivated, cultivated and nurtured our youth in this pastoral area that belongs to you.
We all grew up and went far away, leaving you alone to wait. Mom, whenever relatives get together, you are so busy cooking and taking care of us that you have no leisure at all.
I always saw your handsome figure when I was a child, but we have grown up and you have reached middle age. Your son has come a long way for his career, but you are still working hard for a happy tomorrow in the field. Mother, the pulley of the years is still shaking, the well rope turns around the shaft, and the years when you disappear are so dull.
Time flies, and my childhood has made me deeply regret it. When I got a double score and reported to you, I was so conceited, and you always warned me that I shouldn't stand still tomorrow.
When fighting with others, you always teach us not to be impatient and not to be competitive. Silence is the best language. Although I don't agree with you, I always look back.
Miss you for a long time in the distance, and look forward to a tomorrow in the afternoon without trust. Mom, in that mountain village, you may be staring at that little electric light and thinking about it. At this time, your son also has an unforgettable love. Mom, there is only one good mother in the world, and you are experiencing the greatest happiness and sadness in your life. Mother by candlelight sings my deep thoughts.
Moonless night, breezy picture, open dusty memory, your handsome figure emerges in my memory. I miss you in the distance, let the breeze testify and let the moon keep me company. Mother, when I was unhappy, you raised my sail. When my life went to extremes, you turned my boat forward.
The moon shines forever.
Mom, you told me the essence of life: only hard work can lead to gains, and only hard work can lead to ownership. ? But what can your children repay you for your efforts?
? But how much love there is in that inch-long grass, have you got three rays of spring? Mom, your expectant eyes often make me ashamed, and your solemn exhortation often goes against my will. I can only work harder.
Realize your long-cherished wish.