Selected prose poems about hometown?

The taste of hometown was hidden in that happy time. The following is what I brought for you, hoping to inspire you.

Tisch

Spent a long time in a foreign country

I miss my hometown more and more.

It's like a deep love sinus

Miss that beautiful lover

There are mountains and water in my hometown.

There is thunder, rain, clouds and fog.

There is morning sun and morning dew.

There is a sunset and a moon, and the willow head is about after dusk.

There is loess in my hometown.

There are corn, rice and potatoes on the loess.

There are baskets and simple cows in my hometown.

There are hard-working parents and a long-term daughter.

These are the reasons why I miss my hometown.

I miss my hometown.

I miss you so much.

It hurts to stay, and it hurts to go back.

Hug her, don't kiss her.

My heart really hurts.

extreme

By the country road.

Butterflies are flying all over the sky

A calm stream

Flowers that bloom quietly.

Birds singing affectionately

There are also hopes that I planted when I was young.

Deep in that mountain

There are no noisy streets in this city.

There are no flashing neon lights.

There was no whistle.

Dashan has his unique personality-quiet.

over there

The stream feeds me to grow.

Butterflies teach me to dance.

Birds teach me to sing.

Flowers teach me to smile.

Deep in that mountain

Is the starting point of my life.

I'm going back.

Back to the depths of the quiet mountains

Walking on a country road

Looking for the beauty of the past and the hope planted.

Looking for my hometown

Tisso

I come from my hometown.

Floating into the clouds

unforgettable

It is the mother river of Qingbi.

There are lush willows on both sides.

The fish lang cast a net in the sound of the flute.

The shepherd boy plays the flute on the cow's back.

Shuttle through the endless rape fields.

Green wheat seedling

Always hiding in white love stories

And the nearly hundred-year-old ginkgo tree in front of the house

Under?the?sun

Look quietly.

My poems that will never mature.

In front of the portrait of poet Li Bai

Harvest inspiration