Prose composition 300 words part 1
Recalling that when I was a child, every year when spring came, I would play and play in the warm spring breeze. But the good times did not last long. Spring It was only two or three months, and it passed in the blink of an eye.
There is a spring every year, but once a year in the spring, I grow up slowly, and my personality will change. , when spring comes, I have grown up, I am no longer a child, and I no longer have the innocence of a child.
This makes me feel the difference in spring.
Compared with when I was a child, I have matured and will not be like a child, doing whatever I want. I also no longer have that childlike heart.
I came here with Spring this year. Date.
When spring came this year, I walked on an endless prairie, walking quietly, walking, feeling the joy of spring, listening to the laughter of spring, and observing spring. All things.
Spring is the beginning of the year, the season of recovery of all things, and the beginning of hope.
Spring! Spring, your arrival brings joy to all things on the earth. Comes life, brings indelible hope! Prose composition 300 words part 2
You have been hospitalized several times in the past few years.
I have never realized that you are old so deeply.
You are old.
His hair is completely white and his pupils are cloudy. The moist sunset squeezes into the smaller ward from the window, and you feel like you are in a realistic oil painting with thick colors. The painter is probably a middle-aged man who likes to describe light and shadow. His technique is mature and his writing is steady.
The infusion tube turns a warm orange-red color due to the sunlight, as if your life can become hot again. I glanced out of the small, clean white window and caught a glimpse of green. It stood alone in the yard, looking at me silently.
I suddenly woke up and turned around. You squinted your eyes and looked sideways at me. The white quilt was a little messy. You raised your eyebrows and gently curved the corners of your mouth.
At that moment, the sun just passed over my head, printing the twists and turns of every overlapping fine line on your face with warm red, but your passionate soul was trapped under the skin.
I often imagine myself at that time, against the light, with my disheveled hair standing with teeth and claws spread out as always, showing every detail in the golden light, and the beating of my heart can be vaguely seen.
You are old and I am young. Prose composition of 300 words Part 3
Between the mountains and rivers, beside the ancient temple, an inn is opened.
Garden pavilions, suites and corridors. It is decorated with logs and filled with grass. Choose every stone and pick out every flower and tree.
Begonias are planted in front of the garden, the mountain breeze blows in the face in early spring, and the fallen flowers are colorful.
The fence is made of plum blossoms and the walls are made of vines. Flowers bloom in early summer, and the roses on the shelves fill the yard with fragrance.
When you see a high slope, pile soil and stones to increase its potential; when you see a low-lying area, clear the soil and dig a pond to collect rainwater. The undulating mountain texture can be completed within one garden.
Wandering in a circuitous way, you will suddenly see a bright light. On the flat areas, there are clusters of pink grass. The inflorescences are light purple and look like smoke from a distance. On summer nights, there are little green lights of fireflies swimming among them, adding to the interest of the mountains and wilderness. Plant easy-to-grow bamboos in scattered areas as a barrier. The cool breeze will blow and the bamboo leaves will rustle.
At the end of the mountains and rivers, there is a door leading to another courtyard. It is paved with green tiles to form bones, and the pebbles are arranged into flowers. Set up a stone jar, the water surface is clear and round, and the wind loads are lifted up. Potted plum blossoms, elms, and five-needle pine are placed on the surrounding stone piers. They are either vigorous or elegant, and are stacked one on top of another. One pot is a square inch, showing the remnants of the ancient charm.
On an autumn moon night, the sky is high and the clouds are light, quiet and peaceful. On a snowy day in winter, a pot of warm wine can talk about life in all directions. A garden is the universe.
Between the mountains and rivers, beside the ancient temple, there is an inn, where the five flavors of the world live, the wind and rain from all directions live, the floating light of the world, and you and me.