Poetry of the goddess laurel

Preface: Legend has it that Shaoguang cut ancient scrolls, which is a history of poetry for thousands of years. When we first met, it was raining and I was fascinated by hibiscus. White teeth and bright eyes are entwined with clouds, and ice muscles flow in jade bone. The makeup is graceful and the skirt curtain is tight and fragrant. Love is covered with gentle pursuit, and I fell in love with flowers at first sight. Lingering around, no fragrance. The red leaf building is crowded with people, caressing deep strings. A graceful figure is attached to snow, but a graceful youth cream is difficult. The beautiful songs of Qing Ci are scattered with the wind, whispering and hiding, and the goddess is unintentional. Innocent and flawless, I firmly believe that the beautiful flute is hard to shake. Beautiful dream, sleeves floating on the shore. Leaning on the laurel tree, drunk for a long time, lying on the head of the tree and sleeping. Regret, sadness, tears, elegance, shyness, silence. Liang Zhu Yuanyang bowed with his wife, carved wood flowers on the piano and crowned the branches. Blow your hair into branches by hand and lie down by the lake to take root. Ripples attract butterflies, but if they don't sing, they swallow their prey. Daphne, He Feng's Laurel Goddess