My youth is full of flowers, 800 words.

If life is just an unrepeatable flower season, then a beating heart is a spring flower that never dies. In early spring and February, it is warm and cold at first sight, the goose yellow is faint, and the new green blooms sadly, indicating the vitality of life and being the youth like the rising sun; In the spring of March, apricot blossom and spring rain season, pink and green, soft wind and rain, natural forces flying, is a middle-aged like fire; In late spring and April, the wheat straw withered, the distant mountains were secluded and the twilight was brilliant. This is the evening of yat sen villa. Since the reincarnation geometry is evergreen all the year round, the journey of life will be accompanied by flowers all the way.

Fade a flower in the world. "Flowers are getting better and better, and shallow grass can have no horseshoes." In the world, small poems are full of vitality. But I feel that people are as light as flowers, and I am humiliated and forgotten; "The lotus leaves in the sky are infinitely blue, and the lotus flowers in the sun are of different colors." A little poem in the world grows like fire, with pride in the chest and moonlight in seven points; "West wind blinds, people are thinner than yellow flowers." On earth, a poem is like a flower but not a flower. Without perishable yellow flowers in your hand, you can see through the vicissitudes of life, secretly light a solitary lamp and stumble past. This time, what a sad sentence? "Like a spring breeze, the petals of ten thousand pear trees are blown open at night". On earth, the poem captures the whiteness and vastness of winter with strange feelings and wonders, and pays attention to the grandeur and romance with the eyes of the soul ... The beautiful flowers in the world are dying, and I smell the flowers all the way.

Yinger is worried about butterflies and tired, and the silence is thin. What kind of disappointment will Qiu Yin's Bai Haitang waste at night? What kind of sad feelings will the daisy beside the small book write? Drunk and lying on the bluestone, the red fragrance is scattered. For whom does the fragrance of peony cover up many troubles? The rose flew away and it was a little sad. How do you say that "the blank of a pure land covers up the romantic flow"? Singing softly, singing softly, the east wind gradually rises, making Du Fu cry all over the floor with blood, but she left an aria unchanged for thousands of years! All the flowers are gone, and the nobility of peony is still quietly deducing a period of helplessness. Beautiful flowers shine on the water, weak willows help the wind, and empty valleys and orchids bury the fragrant hills at the end of the sky ... not a compliment to flowers, but a sigh to them! The sweet soul disappears, the empty boudoir only shadows, the beauty withers, and the wanderer cries the autumn wind. If the west wind is bleak and can't afford to roll up the half-curtain fragrance fog, how can we find fragrance all the way? I had to let the melancholy goose yellow climb Man Chun and peek at the girl of my dreams.

Sit in front of the window and bathe in half a meter of sunshine at a 45-degree angle. The old ivy climbed the lonely wall, and the awakened new green gradually became sleepy and lazy. The poplar on the left has a scarecrow, and the rose in the right corner is shy. The old camera in my hand is not as impressive as it used to be, but the little man in the photo still smiles like a flower. The little girl is holding a blue pocket watch and hanging poplars. The wind outside the window blew away half a meter of sunshine, and the people behind him only patted it. Looking back, they got it runs in the family, fragrant all the way.