Poetry about children

My kite

Take me, my kite,

Take me to the blue sky!

I want to fly in the sky,

I want to fly in the sky,

I want to fly like a bird,

Fly over the ocean, fly over the ocean.

Take me, my kite,

Take me to the blue sky!

Look at how great the world in the sky is,

Seeing how good children all over the world are,

I want to hold hands with them,

I want to laugh with them.

Take me, my kite,

Take me to the blue sky!

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mother

I have to say,

Tell me what you gave me.

Gratitude.

You gave me so many trees that I like,

You gave me so many birds I like,

You gave me so many stars with open petals,

You gave me so many words to write poems and songs,

You gave me so many open hearts,

You gave me so many girls with sweet voices,

You gave me so many hands to hold,

Gave me this childish heart—

It has no desire for life,

I just want a gust of wind,

Send my ideal kite into the blue sky.

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When I was a kid.

In childhood

I can't read,

Mom is in the library.

I read my mother—

One day,

The world is at peace;

People can fly. ...

Wheat grows out of snow. ...

Money is useless ...

Gold is used to make bricks for houses.

Money is used to paste paper owls,

Silver coins are used to float water lines.

I want to be a wandering teenager,

With a gilded apple,

Silver candle

A flamingo flying from Egypt,

Travel fairy tale kingdom,

Propose to the princess of Candy City ...

But, mom said:

"You must work now."

Jimmy (middle): Comic writer in Taiwan Province Province. The poems he wrote for comics are very interesting.

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I am a willful child.

perhaps

I am a child spoiled by my mother.

I am very self willed

I hope

every time

As beautiful as colored crayons.

I hope

You can draw on your beloved white paper.

Draw a clumsy self

Draw the next picture Never.

With tears in my eyes

A piece of sky

A feather and a tree belonging to the sky

Light green night and apples

I want to draw the morning.

Draw dew

The smile you can see.

Draw all the youngest

Love without pain

She has never seen a cloud.

Her eyes are the color of a clear sky.

She always looks at me.

Forever, watch

Never turn around suddenly.

I want to paint the distant scenery.

Draw a clear horizon and water waves

Draw many happy rivers.

Painting mountains—

Full of faint velvet.

I put them together.

Let them fall in love.

Let every acquiescence

Every quiet spring is exciting.

Turned into a little flower's birthday.

I also want to paint the future.

I haven't seen her, and I can't.

But I know she is beautiful.

I drew her autumn clothes.

Draw those burning candles and maple leaves

I paint a lot because I love her.

Extinguished heart

Hua wedding

Draw a festival to wake up in the morning-

There is cellophane on it.

And the insertion of northern fairy tales

I am a wayward child.

I want to erase all my misfortunes.

I think on earth

Draw all the windows

Let all eyes get used to the darkness.

Accustomed to the light

I want to paint a style.

Draw a mountain higher than the last one.

Draw the desire of the oriental nation

Draw the sea—

Endless sweet sound

Finally, in the corner of the paper

I want to paint myself, too

Draw a koala

He sat in the dark jungle of Victoria.

Sitting on a quiet branch

He Fa Leng has no home.

There is no heart in the distance.

He only has, a lot.

Berry dream

And big eyes.

I hope

think

But somehow,

I have no crayons.

Don't get a color moment.

I only have me.

My fingers and pain.

Just shredded pieces.

Beloved white paper

Let them find butterflies.

Let them disappear from today.

I'm still a kid.

A child spoiled by an imaginary mother

I am very self willed

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We go boating on the water. Author: bird

We rowed on the water.

Paddle gently

There are white waves on the water.

The waves beat against the ship's side.

The boat passed through the quiet lotus bushes.

The evening breeze brought the nightingale singing on the other side.

We rowed on the water.

Paddle gently

There are white waves on the water.

The waves are like white homing pigeons.

Fly on the calm water

We rowed on the water.

Paddle gently

Double oars make white waves.

Tap the side of the boat gently.

It's a beautiful night in June.

The lake also scattered our youthful and beautiful imagination.

The lake in front of the boat is full of curved moons.

The waves behind the ship sang all the way.

June 438+02, 2065 Beijing Summer Palace