The world except you.
Who is greater than you?
mother
There is no you in the world.
Who else makes children more sad?
mother
Your selflessness to your children.
Heaven and earth as evidence, the sun and the moon as mirrors.
mother
Your aging face.
How much bitterness you have endured for your children.
mother
Love your children
Always happy, because you are here.
mother
Have a nice day.
This is a happy day, this is a sunny day.
Without you
It's like losing your eyes
It's dark.
Go ahead, you.
The children's world has become desolate and miserable.
mother
Ups and downs, busy inside and busy outside.
Around children all my life.
mother
The day you get old.
Yiyi can't let go of your child.
Your grandson
mother
The pain in your life
Children's eternal memory
mother
Your selfless and great maternal love
As bright as the sunrise.
mother
You are old.
Pale hair
An old face
mother
You're gone
A weak hand
Sad mood
mother
Your life is the greatest life.
mother
Your life is the proudest.
Let the children
Pray for you.
Let future generations
Pray for you.
In the world; After all, after all
A child with a mother is a treasure.
In the world; After all, after all
Children without mothers are grass.
May all mothers in the world
in perfect nick
Keep grinning
May you live as long as Nanshan.
Infinite happiness
May the mother of heaven
Rest in peace.
Happiness is boundless.
Disease-free and painless
be happy forever
Mother's appreciation of modern poetry. Mom,
Mother, like the winter sun,
When I encounter setbacks,
He will encourage me and comfort me,
Warm my heart.
Mom,
Mother is like a lamp in the dark,
When I got lost,
She will guide me and light me up,
Towards the light,
Mom,
Mother is like the bright moon on an autumn night.
When I'm lonely and helpless,
She will accompany me and support me,
Give me confidence.
I love mom,
Dear mother is actually different from me.
My love is a stream,
Mother's love is the sea,
She can tolerate everything about me.
My love is a bridge,
Motherly love is a dock,
She can support my spiritual palace.
My love is a blade of grass,
Motherly love is a grassland,
She can breed in my mind.
Our happiness,
It's mom's smile, cheek to cheek.
Our pain,
I am looking at my sad mother with my own eyes.
We can go far,
In fact, you will never get out of your inner square.
Mother appreciates modern poetry 3 and is still looking for memories written in bone flowers? mother
Yes, if all the flowers in the mountain burn.
Enough to remove 70 years of wind and frost from your head.
If this warm mountain wind
Really from the fairy tale world
It is enough to blow out the worries that have been buried in my heart for many years.
But now, the warm sunshine is real.
The clay pot in your hand and the joy of shaking in it are real.
The picture of spring ploughing on the hillside is true.
True, and my son's distant gaze.
A kite touched by the gentle hand of my little grandson.
And the ringing laughter by the mountain stream.
Mom, I know you have walked out of the bone flower with broken steps.
The flowers in front of you, one for two.
The fragrance brewing in my heart is one after another.
So, what kind of fragrance will you use to cover this Shan Ye?
Guy Shan Ye is as beautiful as the flowers in front of him.
What innocence will you walk into?
Become a permanent memory of Shan Ye.
Mom, you smiled.
Grasp the wrinkles of the years and you will smile.
Your smile turned out to be spring.
This is a heavy, heavy and unforgettable spring. ...
Appreciation of Mother's Modern Poetry 4 The second day of April is my mother's birthday. I want to dedicate this group of poems to my most respected mother. Happy birthday!
I'm not Gao Yubao.
But I really can't afford it.
The kerosene lamp at home can be turned off.
The bread at home can be darker.
Father's illness can be alleviated.
But I can't help reading.
The idea of leaving school
I'll lie down by the fire and cry.
You didn't drink soup with a straight face.
It's getting dark. Let's fight the famine.
The moon is black-headed, empty-handed and anxious.
I trotted back from Dazhuang.
Fall into a small river ditch
Aunt helped you come back.
You are soaked to the skin.
Blood runs down my calf.
Curse the cruel housekeeper cock.
You have been moaning all night.
Used for sore legs and feet
For the sadness of life
in the rain
A turbid heart
Cann't tie her faltering steps
The rain soaked her bloody knees.
It also soaked my fragile heart.
Torrential rain
Mom's here.
She surveyed the country road eight miles away.
Walking all the way in fear and trembling.
Barefoot came to the window where my son was reading.
Mother is standing outside the classroom.
I had a meal with my son in my arms for a week.
Wandering footsteps cut off all the sound sources in the room.
All eyes are respectful.
Walk up to my mother in surprise.
Panicked, her calloused hands
Panic. Her hands are tight.
A heavy bamboo basket
Sweet potato noodles that love to eat noodles
Hiding shyly in the basket
Happiness and pain stick together.
I want to say nothing.
I take care of my anxiety with guilt.
Jump to the door in one step
Let the rain push the tide.
Dry slowly
quiveringly
I took the rations that my mother painstakingly managed.
I also received her long advice and wishes.
The rain hasn't stopped yet
Mom is leaving again.
Because my father has been ill for a long time
Call her at the bedside.
When mom left.
tell me
Everything is fine at home.
Study hard.
Don't worry.
Mom is gone.
Take away my wordless sadness
Leave me with infinite thoughts
Spinning wheel in the moonlight
The moonlight is very cold.
Oil lamps are like beans.
Mother sat cross-legged.
A spinning wheel is spinning with thick moonlight.
Abstraction to concreteness
Mother has cotton wool in her hand.
Rough dry crack
Covered with calluses like elm bark.
Pain and sorrow follow the spinning wheel.
Smart flight
Granularity integration
Shasha moonlight
I must work in the fields at dawn.
From dawn to dusk
Go to the full moon west building
Mother's spinning wheel is stubborn and tenacious.
Mother's hands trembled in the rustling wind.
Extract continuous silk silkworm light.
Mom's frozen hands occasionally stop.
Haha hot gas
Look at my father who is ill in bed.
For the son of my dreams
Knee tuck angle
The spinning wheel in his hand turned willfully again.
Mother's wish for winter.
Is to spin a warm spring
Mother and son say to you
You get off the low stool.
It takes a lot of effort to stand up.
Mom, you are getting older and older.
Your fingers become stiff.
Your steps are getting heavier and heavier.
You cook soup in pain.
Painfully brush the pot and wash the dishes
You can't forget your work in the theater.
You suck the last silk thread out of your body like a silkworm.
I am not a good son.
most of the time
I am stubborn and willful.
If you want to exercise, close the door.
I risk being scolded again.
Open the window at midnight to get some air.
Tap the poetic stars with a cold keyboard.
That time
You told a friend behind my back.
I have nothing to give up in this world.
But I can't worry about this child.
He is not sensible and obedient.
If I leave,
You are his relative.
Be sure to take care of him.
Mom, I made you angry.
I walked willfully with tears in my eyes.
I want to go to the warm sunshine.
I want to go to the fresh grassland.
I want to smooth your painful wrinkles.
I want to dye your bright white hair green.
Mother's appreciation of modern poetry 5 Oh, mother.
You are the sunshine of spring.
You are the fragrance of flowers in summer.
You are cool in autumn.
You are the snow light in winter
Oh! mother
You hear swallows singing.
Go and buy me a rice jar.
Prepare whole grains
Send me to school.
Oh! mother
You smell the flowers.
Just told me to be careful of catching a cold.
Prepare mosquito-repellent incense
Mosquito repellent made me fall asleep.
Oh! mother
You see yellow leaves.
Go and buy me winter clothes.
You feel the desolation of fallen leaves.
Tell me never to miss my hometown.
Oh! mother
The ground has been frosted.
You buy paint to decorate your new house.
Fireworks are ringing all over the sky outside
Your hands are still busy.
Oh! mother
You exist.
Our life can be colorful.
You exist.
Our country will be rich and strong.
-The poor inherit the wind.
Expect the son to succeed and the daughter to succeed.
but
Who will understand this affectionate parent?
Silent years
Who will understand that although the morning is as black as silk, the night has become a tragedy of snow?
Admitting a mistake is half corrected.
Come back! my young lady
Listen, mom is crying and hesitating.
Don't wander alone without your mother.
Come back! We all begged her forgiveness.
Oh! mother
You are the brightest sun in my heart.
Without you
I will be blind and lose my way.
With you; have you
I will be truer, purer and stronger.
Oh! mother
Let me kiss your face again.
Let love warm-happiness is eternal.
Mother's appreciation of modern poetry 6 I thank God.
Let you give birth to me
I thank God.
I am your child.
Hours, I was in your arms.
Now, I miss you far away
Once upon a time, you treated me bit by bit.
Now it's your turn.
Whether to wave a hoe in the field
Carve a mark on the soil.
Do you use what you have there?
A hand with a thick cocoon holds a sickle.
Cut off piles of grass
How many wrinkles are there on your face?
How much gray hair do you have?
Mom, don't worry about me.
I'm fine!
Only you remember your health!
The noon sun is too hot, so don't go out.
It is too cold in winter, so you must keep warm.
Don't skip meat to save money.
I don't want you to have a bad life.
Once you hit me and called me names.
This is all in the past.
Now I'm far away
If I can't see you, are you old?
Only deep thoughts.
Remember what the doctor said?
You have high blood pressure.
No drink, no drink.
It's not good for your health. I won't give up.
You are a disabled person.
When you fall.
I was confused at that time.
I'm afraid something will happen to you.
Later, you were disabled.
Now, you are reciting again.
bend down
I am unhappy.
Bend your back.
I don't want to.
You must take good care of yourself.
Have a good meal with your niece.
Don't be angry with them either.
You are very angry now.
I hope you are all right now.
I hope I can be with you forever.
I hope I have achieved something.
Don't do it, so that you can feel happy.
Achievements that make you happy every day.
I thank God.
Let you give birth to me and support me.
Mother's Appreciation of Modern Poetry 7 Busy with the odds and ends of life.
Or linger in the scene after scene of the text?
Of course, during this time.
Neglect, family greetings
\
Turn around suddenly
There is a pain that permeates the atrium.
I let those kind eyes
How much care and sadness?
\
The faint moonlight enveloped the earth.
The wind blew into the soft part of the atrium.
Tears of missing
Slip on silent paper
\
There are flowers everywhere.
I can't resist the concern of my family.
I wonder how my mother is recently?
I wonder how many white hairs my mother has on her head.
\
The cool moonlight refreshes the skin.
Missing poured out at night.
There are many mountains and shadows, and there are boundless clouds and water.
I seem to see my mother standing at the intersection overlooking the distance.
\
Mom! children
Just pay attention to the flowers and plants here
But I forgot, it's over there
Mother waited through autumn water.
\
We agreed not to let you feel the end and silence.
Don't let you wait for my news in endless days.
Don't let your vicissitudes of life feel bleak.
Son, no, no.
Mother's Appreciation of Modern Poetry Eight swallows have left.
And when you come again.
The willow has withered.
Sometimes it is greener.
The peach blossom has withered.
There's still time to drive again.
But as time goes by, it won't come back and forth again.
I thought I would never grow up.
Every day is as happy as childhood.
Feel relaxed
One day, however,
I finally found myself having to face it.
Many, many real pains
Only then did I realize that I had grown up.
There is a family.
It's already a mother
-Written on Mother's Day 20xx
Mother's appreciation of modern poetry. My mother gave birth to me and nurtured me.
Once a beautiful young woman.
Because of my naughty.
You have insulted me countless times.
Now I have calluses, silver hair and a wrinkled face.
Mom, you have no culture.
But it taught me perseverance, diligence and kindness.
You will never give up eating and dressing yourself in your life.
In his eighties, he is still cooking for his children and grandchildren.
My son won't go back for a day.
A lovely old woman, she was about to call and ask why.
Mom, watching your faltering steps.
Your busy back always flashes in your mind.
Listen to your nagging
I always heard your voice asking me to eat when I was a child.
Mom, why?
Buy you new clothes.
You always say-enough to wear, no need.
Buy your favorite tea.
You always say-don't waste time.
My son always refuses what he gives you.
But what you gave me was so silent.
Mom, my son knows that you are getting old.
After waiting for you for a hundred years.
When you can't refuse any more
What can a son give you?
Besides burying you in the Woods, under the flowers and by the stream
Or birthdays or anniversaries or Qingming
Kneel before you
Calling you softly-mom
Or cry or laugh.
Mom, you know what?
What kind of heartache is this for my son?
At this moment, I don't ask you to bless your children and grandchildren.
I just want you to be as calm as you are now.
Appreciation of Mother's Modern Poetry 10 Mother is a cultivator.
I don't know a few words.
The twisted three words are written on the paper.
Laughed at by me
From then on, I knew
These characters are her name.
In childhood
Mother asked me to teach her to write.
I touched the tea stains on the table with my hand and wrote a few Chinese characters regularly.
Mother studied hard until the tea was almost dry.
Impatient, I said I was going to do so-called business.
Mother quietly left her finger, but still gestured.
Oh, my mother, how stupid I was then!
Mom, you like to look at my hands.
It is said that the reader holds the pen.
Never get four pimples like her.
My mother hugged me and told me to study hard and eat public meals in the future.
My mother, I want to tell you.
Times have changed, and public meals are not iron rice bowls.
Children love literature and poetry.
The little hands you touched will hold the pen tightly.
Write about the future and life.
My mother, she is also a poet.
She can write about nature and life.
Her pen and ink are in the field.
Her metaphor is naturally unpretentious.
Remember a pair of socks in winter.
You said it looked like a pig's stomach.
Mom, you can write poems.
Your poem is better than your son's.
Your poetry is the soul that your son will integrate into poetry.
Mother, although there is not a piece of paper to leave your poem.
But your son is your pen.
Your son's pen is your poem.