A beautiful modern poem describing August 1 August in my heart
The lotus leaves that meet the sky in August are swaying.
The sun shines from the warm south in Longhu, the ancient capital of Huaiyang.
I drove eight thousand miles, and the clouds and the moon are in this beautiful place.
Sprinkle a little flashing miss on the slender lotus.
This wanderer who walked in the distance in August
Put a heart in the rain and wait for the north wind.
I found a lotus leaf in Longhu, my hometown.
Walking on the head of the Central Plains.
There are lotus flowers competing to open in August.
Bloom in the beautiful hometown, dye a dream floating in the south.
In August this year, I looked at the sky in the north from the south.
Imagine the beautiful and moving lotus trip in Huaiyang, my hometown.
This descendant of Huang Xi who left the ancient capital Huaiyang in August.
Spread the fragrance of lotus everywhere near the sun.
In August this year, the south released its homesick wings.
Stop on the lotus leaf that is muddy but not stained.
Call a familiar phone number at home.
Wanderers walking in the south heard the sound of water drops rolling down the lotus leaves.
The parents' words on the other end of the phone are affectionate.
Wanderers walking in the south see lotus flowers blooming in the sun.
This touching story of August has been staged again and again.
This August meditation has repeatedly precipitated.
This August, a heart will fill the whole lotus pond.
This August, every dream will have an empty heart of love.
Beautiful modern poems describe "August Night" on August 2nd.
In the darkness of August
I salute the sky like a lonely wolf.
Staring at the fairy to fix the moon board
Let the elves bless you.
Make people's dreams come true
Tighten the roundest and brightest points.
I closed my eyes, closed my hands and implanted them devoutly.
The old man is in good health.
Brothers Grains Man Cang
Friends get what they want.
People who care about me will always be happy.
Looking forward to the moon in the water
A great letter that wishes come true.
The stars squint at me. I'm so stupid.
Gold and silver are real.
I was suddenly injured.
Slip a wet shirt from tears
A cavity of love is hard to return.
A man was drunk and dreamed of going home.
Do everything possible.
Mid-autumn festival of the prodigal son
Miss the soul of the prodigal son Mid-Autumn Festival
A beautiful modern poem "Hanzhong in August" describing August 3rd.
Hanzhong in August is golden.
Coming from Qin and Han Dynasties, the mark of history.
Like a string of shining pearls
Jump in front of my eyes
Guhantai, white pulpit, horse drinking pool
And the ancient city walls covered with moss.
In the autumn wind, the legend of the Han family is told.
At the foot of Dingjun Mountain, Wuhou rests here.
Under the sunshine, snuggle up to the winding cypress.
A string of silvery laughter overflowed.
Thousand-year-old double laurel, full of fragrance
Like the light of Wu Hou's soul
Through the Millennium time and space, the spirit of Hanzhong people will be illuminated.
Hanzhong in August, full of green.
Since ancient times, Daishan has clear water.
Dye Hanzhong basin into a painting
Beautiful landscape painting
The green is Qinling Mountain, not Bashan Mountain.
North and south face each other, affectionate.
Like a pair of spoony lovers.
It is Hanshui River and Jialing River.
One water goes east and the other water goes south.
Are pursuing their own ideals with lofty sentiments and ambitions.
Ancient dwellings in Ming and Qing dynasties
The endless golden fields.
Writing a song is very comfortable.
Fresh and unique poems illuminate the dreams of Hanzhong people.
Hanzhong in August
There is no bleak autumn.
Thick cultural accumulation
Pumbaa's vibrant green mountains and rivers
It is pregnant with the spirit and dreams of Hanzhong people.
Her maturity and hope
Her massiness and vitality.
Will lead us to create tomorrow's glory.
A beautiful modern poem "August" describing August 4th.
Lake light in August
Take a shower.
Fine willow branches
Why are you disappointed?
whether or not
The autumn wind is too cold.
Worry too long
Let the moonlight of lovesickness
Shine on the sleeping lake
Injured alone.
Moonlight in the city
Can't get through the fence
tree leaf
But it's yellow
Why?
I am on the earth.
You are in the sky
Let the tears of acacia
Reflected in the broken bridge corridor
Look at each other.
The noisy city is too busy.
The lonely moon palace is desolate again.
Meet across the milky way
Still have to wait.
365 stars.
More than 8,700 sunsets and early mornings.
how far
see you again
And deliberately avoided it.
Gossip eyes
The Mid-Autumn full moon just climbed the window beam.
Watching the moon in the shadows until dawn.
A cold night
Still thinking
365 miles of long night.
8,700 waterways flow leisurely.
Fate was born today.
Dreaming in his hometown
When shall we meet?
The same moon
A beautiful modern poem "August is coming" describing August 5th.
Is the west wind mature and desolate?
Thick green in midsummer,
Dim and faded,
With a hint of silent sadness.
Morning fog
Like a thin layer of white gauze,
Cold and sad,
Like a quiet night.
There has been a faint frost.
A more charming color than green,
Even though it has spread all over the fields,
Climb up the continuous hills.
In August of the lunar calendar,
Like old wine,
Quiet and mature
There is an intoxicating smell.
I said, this fragrant season,
This is a gift from heaven to farmers.
Look at them with a sickle,
Bow down;
Look at them with baskets on their shoulders.
Trembling poles,
Follow the brisk pace.
Maybe just busy,
A sweaty face,
Happy or satisfied,
It is pure laughter and wind and frost.
That golden grain of wheat,
The fruit of Huang Chengcheng,
Faced with such a heavy reality,
Rolled into the farmer's barn.
I am homesick,
Miss the harvest season.
A helpless wandering,
Empty alleys and deserted streets.
Lost the farmers' steadfastness and sincerity,
I am like an unemployed wandering soul;
Covered by the night of the city,
Holding a fragrant and intoxicating laurel,
Unexpectedly, he is another casual alcoholic.
A beautiful modern poem describes "Autumn in August" on August 6th.
The feeling of wind freely hangs the prosperity of leaves.
We already know the past of the feast.
It was the approach of autumn's return.
Began a whirlwind ending.
I am trying my best to find and keep the dream of spring.
But my vocabulary focuses on Hà Thu.
There is a touch of white in the blush of the residual flower.
If I can draw a picture for you
I am willing to devote my heart to sunny days.
A face of sweat soaked in hot feelings.
Remember that your most vivid beauty lies in
In the folding fan painting that is about to end.
I can order a drop of gentleman's dew this morning.
It hasn't cooled its memory with the idea of autumn.
Say goodbye to the warm feelings that melt bit by bit.
The dullness of time has no intention of running water.
My only inscription is behind sunset's wedding dress.
The faded night was endowed with a clear autumn moonlit night.
You know the color, I know the memory.
If you and I leave, there is still a drop of dew hanging on the wind chime on the window.
Silent autumn leaves fall.
I no longer wait at the corner of the street lamp.
I would like to carve it in the mottled corner of time.
Inclined eyes, the secret of reunion
My eyes have never left Huang Ju's emaciation.
The weight in my heart was left to the lock on the knocker.
If this autumn in August condenses tears on a feather,
I closed my eyes and remained silent.
It can gradually cool down. I'm ready.
Spend an autumn in the cold rain.
Long-term parting
Moss on the annual rings is waiting for resurrection.
A beautiful modern poem "August, Fire" describing August 7th.
Some are burning, some are stumbling, some are too late to bloom, and some are not yet grown up.
In this way, the protagonist of the story is lost and staggered, so that it is skewed into a dreamy plot.
Listen, those silent languages; Look, those dumb voices that never vibrate.
Those you and I didn't walk into, those he or she didn't go backwards. Only multimedia scrolling and expansion.
One connection spread to ten, and ten connections spread to hundreds, copied into a monstrous torrent, constantly clamoring.
The hero's blood is still flowing, and that fire has lit up the darkness, every inch, every inch.
My pen writes down August, the ruins, the figure running in the ruins.
Even if there is no body, it shuttles through the hot midnight, and the future is green.
Orange frozen life will turn this August, this midnight, into a flame of love.
Burning, just to put out; Quenching, only applicable to cast steel. One generation is young and the other is strong.
Whistling and leaving quietly. That bright red blood, through fire and water.
Into the August military songs, into the spirit of August, charge, trap, sonorous.
A beautiful modern poem describing "Love in August" on August 8th.
Holding tea in hand, looking at the lotus flowers to thank.
Think back to that night in shenyuan garden.
That pool of fat green lotus flowers
Enchanting and graceful, graceful and colorful.
Brought me so much light and happiness.
What I see now is
Cold lotus and clean clothes
Tears and Rain of Qu Yuan in West Lake.
Drop ideas and wash them out.
Memories of August
In August, excitement returned to calm.
Impetuous return to meditation
A person is walking
Even on the narrow path by the river
Covered with faint moss.
Accompanied by the gurgling water
This is just an old crack in the wall.
Overgrown weeds, vines and hedges.
When you are speechless, you feel the deepest.
Time has forgotten the memory.
In the dreams left by the ancients
Only the cool moonlight expresses.
Some tangled plots
And bohemian poetry
Fragrant everywhere, heartbreaking everywhere.
Canxue on the bridge, Bofeng Bridge.
Cut off the bright moon of the twenty-four bridges together
Pulled by weeping willows on the shore
There is only one solitary light in sight.
A beautiful modern poem describing August 9th.
How urgent is your passionate rain in August?
How fragrant your osmanthus wine is in August.
How elegant your flowers are in August.
In August, your flag will fly in the sky forever.
In August, you are crisp, and the trees are swaying the last life.
In August, every corner of you is the most beautiful last paradise.
In August, your hometown will always be full of affectionate eyes.
The road to my hometown in August is slow and long.
In August, how brilliant your brilliant youth is.
In August, the long Yellow River in your hometown comes from far away.
You will always have a track full of dreams in August.
In August, you ushered in a season full of pictures.
You will always have a lovely and pure soul in August.
Your sky is so deep blue in August.
In August, you sang a beautiful and colorful world.
In August, your river will always be full of dreams.
I feel that you are the starting point of victory in August.
August is full of vigorous spirit and eternal thoughts.
In August, you fly south, and geese wander in the sky forever.
In August, the hearts of the wise are always warm.
You are the most beautiful rainbow in the sky in August.
In August, your strong seagull bravely flew on the sea.
In August, your youth will realize that eternal value forever.
In August, you are lucky and happy. The ark is a new and eternal milestone.
In August, you pretend that life will never shine with brilliant youth.
In August, your sonorous singing will spread all over the world forever, vilen.
Your heroic passion in August, you are burning.
Your wonderful plan for August is so gorgeous.
A beautiful modern poem describing August 10 "Mid-Autumn Festival in August"
The sky in August
Full of thoughts and sweetness.
Let Tang and Song go.
Acacia becomes a thin moon.
A grand and happy celebration.
The fragrance of osmanthus fragrans
From the other shore
Who will smell sweet after a short meeting?
Who laughs happily?
Through the coolness of night
Contact Tianyu directly
It is Mid-Autumn Festival again.
Sweetness of moon cakes
And the mellow smell of alcohol.
this evening
Whose ecstasy is it?
A beautiful modern poem describing August 1 1 "Night Shadow in August"
Some cleaning is in no hurry.
The street lamp will be on for a while.
Hold the unfolded colored ball on your chest.
Piles of overdue books are still being read.
This booth is close to the soil.
Run in the footsteps of passers-by
It is really too late tonight.
You can hear the stars breathing.
And the lively singing in the corner of the park.
Sit on a possible stone bar
The breeze blows with the cool lake.
Isn't it shameful to say moonlight?
Looking a little ambiguous and crazy.
You don't even have to pull out the leaves.
Of course there are some accumulated comments.
The master is long, and the west is short.
Just like the Henan Opera around the old people.
So full of flavor
When you say it, you are far away.
Can't repeat the tone just now.
Every beam of light is a different record.
Touch the exquisiteness of white jade railings.
Shake the lotus rhyme
Every step is out-of-print molding.
The railing is facing the wind at the moment.
I've been climbing the zigzag bridge to watch the waves
Lie together and savor.
This is just a simple scene.
You shouldn't always use the banner of digestion
How many people rushed out?
The house is getting farther and farther away
Eventually it will get closer and closer.
Put yourself on the street for a while.
In the quiet breeze
Enjoy the performance.
Consume memory