March, the first warm and cold season. The spring breeze comes slowly, with the fragrance of the earth, kissing people's cheeks sweetly. Willow shoots and green buds, grass spreading new leaves, streams, buildings, tea gardens, mountains … Ah, the earth is covered with green background.
Green-the background color of life. Seeds germinate in the soil, roots tiller in the germination, and new green stands out, staining fields, rivers, farmers' feelings and farmyards. Cangshan rock desert is vigorous, because you show vitality; Blue sky and white clouds are elegant, because you are spacious; The rough disco dance steps of the new generation of farmers are the outline of your lines; The fast pace of farm reform depends entirely on your intentional support ... ah, green, the background color of life, you melted the residual snow on the roadside and blossomed colorful flowers in people's hearts!
Green-the background of hope. Do not love the fragrance of flowers, do not admire the harvest of fruits, hope, dark green background. Ploughs furrow in Woye, sow seeds, sow hope, sow hope for tomorrow today. Spring rain is falling, singing green fantasia; The humiliated old cow chewed the green vision carefully. Life is full of colorful sunshine, farmers bid farewell to poverty and ignorance in a green atmosphere. Ah, green, the background of hope, inspires many cultivators to open up a brand-new future!
Although green is not as rich as yellow and lacks the intensity of red, you contain a kind of belief, which shows people's pursuit of beauty: treat love with purity, beautify life with labor, write the future with wisdom, and describe the volume with struggle ... A year's plan lies in spring, and there are summer accumulation, autumn dedication and winter thinking behind spring. ...
It snows in May
Text/Zhao Wei
On the fault in May, time slowed down.
Time has turned into snow.
It's overwhelming A crumpled silver package
As white as the wings of an angel.
Kissing Apollo's wind, ambiguous
Touch every inch of this country's skin
The lake is full of scale waves and jumps.
The whiteness of the crescent moon is shining.
Iris climbed up the slope gradually.
Looking into the distance, it is white.
I seem to have seen it before.
Gentle and quiet
Larks sing legends.
A melody circulated in legend
Unprinted chapters in poetry.
Building Four Seasons Ice and Snow Storage Room in the Morning Light
Pak Lei blossoms, white pear flower falls.
Flowing pearls
Like the eyes of love
The road is weathered.
Climb the plateau full of snow and the moon.
Those flexible stories
Turn into the sound of snowball keys.
Generous and elegant
Time flies, and May has passed.
White gauze left by time
Has been dyed by the stars and the moon.
The sky disappeared.
There is a continuous message.
Look into the distance for a long time.
This legend is circulated in the legend of low resentment.
Campus prose poetry
Pink pen
Children in the mountains are innocent and pure. Thousands of filters crystallize into a gentle spirit. No matter where it floats, it can't change the nature of the rock.
Slender and strong, not curved. Grind yourself down bit by bit, and let those thirsty souls and tired thoughts rejuvenate.
White is often accompanied by black. Without a blackboard, how can it have fine functions? How can you write freely without the blackboard? We must work together in everything, but can a successful person go it alone? Modesty and justice. Every stroke and painting objectively shows the writer's mental journey. The ambition of a loyal minister and a good general, even if imprisoned in the darkness of the prison, will eventually shine with the sun and the moon and warm the world for thousands of years. The false letters of traitors and thieves, even if they hang high in the sky, can only be cloudy for a while and will eventually disappear into the world.
Away from the mountains, the texture remains the same. No matter where you write it, no matter who writes it, every stroke runs through the writer's heart and soul. Seriously, go calm down. Into dust, fluttering, without a trace.
blackboard
Black is pure, black is warm. The clear spring moistens the tenderness of all beings and wipes the chaotic soul.
Black and clear, black and clear. Just like a cheerful stream, it always writes its feelings on its face. Black is really not beautiful, but it is never unreasonable to admire white. If white is dazzling and you can't figure out the depth of talent, it's not as reassuring as black.
Absorb dust without regrets, turn spring breeze into rain, and moisten things silently. When the black paint on his face faded, his fiery and pious heart calmed down.
Black is a pure reflection of the soul. Black is the identification code of nature.
Not ashamed of ugliness, but proud of black. What is purer than your black? What's darker than your black?
Speech platform
It's only three feet, but you must never underestimate it. Although not as talented as Yan Zhaowang and Huang Jintai, the evaluation and grading of the actors in front of the stage are accurate.
Bow your head in front of people who are willing to turn themselves into a wisp of white smoke, and that is the ladder. You can reach the moon, and Yun Fan will help the ocean.
Look down on your bones: if you are a monk for a day, you will talk about it in Kan Kan, like withered seeds scattered in fertile fields, making autumn cry.
Worship preachers who learn to pour out their feelings and give lectures; I have great respect for those who are willing to work hard for Ganniu. The food of knowledge gradually enriches the malnourished body, and the essence of wisdom is orderly, enlightening the ignorant mind. There is a tacit understanding on stage and off stage.
The three-foot platform is too short, but I look up and listen, and I never slack off. Weigh the weight, be objective and fair. Boiled and boiled, completely different. Don't you see-the pious man is plucking hair from the corner of the table, and the blasphemer falls off the table.