This is the 2nd133rd issue selected for you by Taihu Poetry Magazine.
Everything is accumulating energy, waiting for the return of spring (group poem)
Old worm
open field
Phenology changes and seasons are reborn.
In the wilderness, there is silence and distance.
Say goodbye to the still lush bamboo forest
Watching the once lush grass on the roadside wither.
Fuzzy message tree
Standing in front of the driven autumn mountain and autumn water
Silence is actually more silent.
Holding the fallen branches, sit firmly in front of the bird's nest.
The sparrow writes the staff on the wire.
A few faint rays of sunshine are unwilling to be lonely.
The first snow has come to the mountain pass not far away.
The little country villa is immersed in tranquility and comfort.
The winter sky is crystal clear, and Wan Li is cloudless, windless and foggy.
Yuan Ye is a masterpiece with far-reaching artistic conception.
The morning frost is still, the setting sun is still, and the starry night is still
Everything is gathering strength, waiting for the return of spring.
Afternoons in late autumn and early winter
The sky finally cleared up and the breeze was blowing gently.
The rhythmic sunshine on the river swings into a new posture.
Pedestrians crossing the bridge are very comfortable.
Moving vehicles no longer flash their lights and whistle.
Three or five kites are cruising over the square.
Clouds are free and unfettered, and I don't know where to go.
A happy home is sitting around a shallow grass.
The talkative pet dog has fallen asleep.
The gate of the museum glowed with bronze.
Excellent paintings and calligraphy of senior universities are on display in the library.
The three-person match on the basketball court is in full swing.
The beauty's roller skating show moistens the handsome boy's mandrel.
A group of sculptures instantly stepped on the footsteps of "suddenly far away and suddenly close".
The flying pigeons redraw the skyline of the battlements.
Through the colorful forest
A whirling leaf waved to me.
Dead butterfly
Fly away from everyone's sigh and admiration.
In this desolate place
It stopped in a huge dust net.
Its tentacles pointing to the clouds and the sky are still extending.
The wings against the hurricane are still flapping.
Calm eyes overflow with long-lost fragrance and softness.
In the face of an insidious and ruthless killing
It is as calm as a mountain and as calm as the sea.
Pray silently like a pious saint
Uphold the style of life and death
It looked at me for a long time without a trace of sadness.
In a desperate situation, I can't stand such a solemn confession.
In its light and gorgeous body
Jump out of a vigorous soul.
The meaning of nothingness and suspension
In its divine cycle, it has been stumbling.
fisherman's song
On the wild ridge, there are rumors of dusk moonlight.
Suddenly, I jumped down again and polished a lake of broken silver.
The heron who came back late came to clean up the mess.
On the shore, the sails are lowered and the tail sound of autumn wind is rolled up.
The lake in Man Cang is fresh and full of deep dreams.
Looking forward to the joy of the business in the morning.
A greedy cat circled around the bow and stern.
Meow meow meow meow.
The fisherman faced the big lake and sang a poem in a low voice.
Raise the wine bowl and throw it away.
thick fog
It's foggy
Bite stations, docks, airports and highways to death. ......
Where are you?
Back to the chaotic prehistoric times.
Or trapped in a nightmare newspaper?
Little sparrow walks through the dense forest.
Wild cats and wild dogs fell on the lawn.
Mountains and lakes, swimming in the so-called fairyland.
The fog locks the city, and the more locked it is, the tighter it is.
But you can't lock a pair of fish that slip through the net.
A greeting, a charge.
Ears and heart.
The chirping of birds
.
The dense fog receded and the vegetation was exposed.
Hanging gold and falling red on the branches
A sunny smile
All the birds are singing.
Fly from a corner of the community
Looking up, I saw a bird shaking its head and tail.
Shake the colorful leaves so spiritually
In this dead of winter, it is full of longing for spring.
Learn the tone of a chicken and play with the skills of bees and butterflies.
Just like a romantic prodigal son walking in the rivers and lakes, he is bohemian.
I started a series of whistles.
It's a counterattack and a tease.
It turned around and stepped back.
Start a new round of tricks again
wetland
Please believe that the cold wind will not keep blowing like this.
There are thin clouds, old willows and rippling intuition.
Higher and higher buildings are looming in the canopy.
Acorus calamus Qing Wu, maple leaf orange-red.
A bouncing fish broke the withered lotus's mood.
The girl in the hammock is reading quietly.
Inadvertently humming a Walden-style spiritual pastoral.
A crested diving duck is washed in the water.
There is its other half in the water mirror.
The small bridge still looks happy with scattered branches and leaves.
Flowers bloom and fall, frogs sing cicadas.
Whose amnesia is precipitated by this water stop?
Gaotieshang
Not yet seated
The horse trotted up and ran like crazy.
Exactly, it's like an arrow leaving the string.
Outside the window, the rotating earth quickly retreated.
Everything is flying, fleeting.
You are not allowed to carefully identify and appreciate.
In the carriage, communication is only two words.
Precious time, exciting speed
And the old man and the child have fallen asleep peacefully.
On this beautiful assembly line.
I think of the long-lost green leather train.
Miss those close and warm, uneasy and uneasy.
Major Snow
.
Today's heavy snow, real heavy snow.
It's already stuck in people's hearts and mouths.
It squatted in front of the windowsill where the north wind hurried by.
Lurking in the curtain call of fallen leaves
There will always be scabs.
Why does it ache again?
The white hair piled up in the sideburns is becoming more and more surmised.
What a long wait it is
My eyes lit up.
This became irrefutable evidence.
He Lin smelled the cold.
Plunge into the whirlpool and wave again.
I just insist, for a surging idea.
I'm just struggling for the past.
It snowed like a mat, so white that I was caught off guard.
Baishaquan
.
The call of mountains and rivers, the oath of rocks
In the depths of the earth, there is an advancing Long Mai.
A thousand drops of peach blossom rain, ten thousand white jade snow.
And squeezed all the way.
This pure land is hidden outside the world.
The sun, the moon and the stars gurgled out from the bottom of the well.
Clear and transparent, sweet and delicious, not dry in all seasons.
People come and go, who is Jinyun rehearsing for?
Get out of the cage with a supernatural rumor.
We were warm and watched the vines turn over the old house.
Brief introduction of the author
Old Bug, whose real name is Yue Feng, is an independent poet. He has been published in People's Daily, Poetry Magazine, PLA Literature and Art, Star Poetry Magazine, Selected Poems Magazine, Shilin and other paper media, as well as China Poetry Network, Contemporary China Poetry, Jiading Culture, Hai Poetry Magazine, China Poet, China Poetry Selection and other networks. Some of his works have been selected into various texts, such as Selected Poems of China Centennial Poets, Selected Poems of China Powerful Poets, Selected Works of China Contemporary Local Writers, Selected Poems of 20 17, Selected Poems of China Taihu Lake Customs, etc. There is also a book of poems called Wild Songs.
"I recommend it.
Poetry appreciation
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