A wonderful poem praising maternal love (1): A poem dedicated to mother, lasting for a long time.
I just want to write a poem for you.
But I wrote it many times.
I haven't written it yet
Mom, I wrote this poem for you.
I don't know how to start.
I don't know how to end it.
I don't know what to write.
It's like slapping you hard when you were a child.
I don't know whether to accept it bravely.
Or should I choose to escape?
Mom, I thought of you again tonight.
I decided to write a poem for you.
Even if it's not well written
Even if you are far from home.
Never read ...
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.
A wonderful poem praising maternal love (2): maternal love conceived in October
Birthday after a few months of pregnancy
You are destined to be the embodiment of human love.
Work hard every day
Night also cares.
You have interpreted the true meaning of love between heaven and earth.
A needle or thread-a little property
a little bit
Life is hard.
It's the closed door in your memory.
Mom.
Your hair has been dyed white.
Your efforts are still unknown.
Give a warning.
purchase in advance at fixed
A worrying idea.
Is the root of your dusty heart.
Mom.
Your forehead is covered with wrinkles.
Your love is still touching.
Love is speechless
That is the realm of moistening things and being silent.
Great love and selflessness
This is the earth-shattering spirit.
Wonderful poem praising mother's love (3): Mother's love You have three children.
But never say to any child:
"I love you"
You are the one who hides love in every gray hair.
You say nothing about the hardships of life.
Life is bent.
Callus on your palm
Grow into a flower of suffering
Reflected in my heart lake
It smells damp.
Every time I call,
You said everything was fine at home;
Father and you are in good health.
The fed chickens have grown a lot.
The farm work has been finished.
But I saw it clearly.
In the scorching field
Sweat oozes from the wrinkles on your forehead.
Fingers with sickles are like dead branches.
Thirsty and chapped lips
But none of the children sent a glass of water.
Your children are far away.
Run for life
Become the most ruthless person.
It is said that raising children to prevent old age
Then what are you doing?