On October 1st, the poetry reading should be shorter to celebrate the motherland.

"Bless the Motherland" Mother said that in October Sky, flowers, wine, fruits and smiling faces are swaying in the sunny singing. I said, October Sky, the moon is dotted with hazy affection and dreams. My mother said that the Mid-Autumn Festival has passed, the sun is not hot, the moon is full, and the road, footsteps, figures and geese are changing. I know my mother is sitting in the moonlight at the moment. What kind of happiness fills my heart? Covered with moonlight, it is warm and boundless. My motherland and my relatives are closely linked, and the sea and mountains are endless. Tonight, I put on my mother's hand-sewn clothes and walked through the clouds, candlelight and the empty square. I saw the roots of the five-star red flag deeply rooted in the earth, the blue sky, the eyes and the heart. My poem, go forward, go forward, follow the rhythm of mother's sewing. Arrange the grandeur and winding of the Great Wall ... I know that the bright moonlight can shine all over the people, dotted with the central Hebei plain in the city and countryside, waving the arms of cooking cigarettes on the plain, and even my distant childhood, the painful grandmother, with a creaking windmill in her hand. Sugar-coated haws are sour and sweet, followed by her own chickens and dogs ... At the time of harvest, Miller's gleaners have been in my hometown for a long time. I saw a new oil painting. A great mother held a bunch of wheat ears above her head and embedded them in the national emblem. Oh, I remember. Who was holding Jin Shanshan's lamp when the wheat was being grouted? Oh, I remember, who is Mai Lang! Silver sickle waving crescent moon, the sun and the moon across the shoulder, the river flows through the palm. I asked, can I say? Inherent feelings to go abroad, there is a bright moon hanging in the sky, and I can't walk out of Tang poetry and Song poetry, and I can't leave my house. There is a bright moon sprinkled on the ground, and I can't walk out of Li Bai's hometown, my motherland's hometown, and a fallen leaf. I want to grow into a splendid walking sunflower landscape, and the sun and the moon are spinning towards the motherland and the people who love me. Love, the seeds are full in the morning, my mother said, the magpies crow, this is a happy occasion. Who can tell me how many years National Day and Mid-Autumn Festival are on the same day? I can only say that this is a festival in a festival, a joy in a celebration, a miss in a gala, a hope in a poem, and a picture in a painting.